


Batfam Extended

by Common_fan_writes



Series: Welcome to the Batfam [4]
Category: Batman - All Media Types, Original Work
Genre: Angst, Canon Divergence, Fluff, Gen, Literally the second word is a curse, Original work - Freeform, Some cursing (even in different languages), lots of fluff
Language: English
Status: In-Progress
Published: 2020-08-03
Updated: 2021-02-01
Packaged: 2021-03-05 23:00:58
Rating: Teen And Up Audiences
Warnings: Creator Chose Not To Use Archive Warnings
Chapters: 21
Words: 32,038
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/25683187
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/Common_fan_writes/pseuds/Common_fan_writes
Summary: What happens when you get to know Bruce Wayne? You become a part of the Batfam.This work, while in a series, is able to be read and understood on its own.
Relationships: Bruce Wayne/Selina Kyle, Harley Quinn/Poison Ivy, Richard Grayson/Barbara Gordon, Richard Grayson/Koriand’r, Tim Drake/Stephanie Brown
Series: Welcome to the Batfam [4]
Series URL: https://archiveofourown.org/series/1558327
Comments: 5
Kudos: 29





	1. Sherry Holland

**Author's Note:**

> DISCLAIMER! I don’t own any of the characters from DC comics. I do, however, own everything I wrote in this work, along with my Original Characters, which are pointed out as original in ‘Supplementary Materials’.
> 
> Small Notice: I add tags as I write the chapters, not as I post them; therefore, any given tag, especially the ones at the end, may not apply yet.
> 
> Additionally, this is a weird amalgamation of most DC timelines. It uses details and elements from the comics universe, the tv shows, the movies, and even fanfiction, not that the copying from other fanfics was intentional. Please note that any similarities to other fanfics is either coincidence or because of my subconscious self. It may be negligent on my part to leave certain details in the story if it resembles other fiction, but... I do not intend to be stealing or plagiarizing, no copyright infringement intended, and kudos to the fictions I’ve read for sticking out enough to me to inspire my story. 
> 
> Oh, I still own all original characters in this story. I came up with them on my own. This is still my story which I wrote with my own words. Please note that this is written for my enjoyment, and it’s only out there because I figured others would enjoy it too.
> 
> Thank you all for choosing this fic. I hope you enjoy.
> 
> (Note: There are more warnings at the end.)

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Welcome to the Batfam, Sherry Holland.

“Well... sch**ss.” 

Sherry had never expected that she would find the Red Hood this injured—much less in broad daylight—but she wasn’t the type to ignore someone. 

_Why is my life like this?_

She had moved to Gotham a few years ago, and this wasn’t the first crazy thing that happened. Growing up, she’d been used to looking over her shoulder. She hadn’t been afraid, just cautious. Now, every time she looked behind her, she half expected to see one of Gotham’s crazies. The change was unusual. 

It was even more unusual to notice the Red Hood, beaten and broken, leaning against an alleyway’s wall. 

She began treating his wounds to the best of her abilities. She had learned first aid during police training, but she hadn’t known how much she’d use it in Gotham. Normally, she would try to convince Red Hood to turn himself in to the police—there was no way she could arrest him if he resisted—but she hadn’t expected their first meeting to be like this. 

She had half the mind to get him to the hospital under watch of the police, but she knew better. Trying to arrest a Gotham vigilante would only get people hurt, as had been proved several times. 

_Where do I take him?_ Sherry wondered. She’d already been questioning how many internal injuries Hood had for him not be have woken up already. He must have had a concussion or something of the sort. 

Sherry guessed the safest course of action was to drop Hood off at one of his safehouses, although it would get her under the watch of the Bats. 

_There’s not much else I can do,_ she thought to herself. _Why does Hood have to be so heavy?_

It was a struggle to transport Hood, but the area remained empty despite the sun that shone overhead. 

_I guess Gotham nights are more active anyway._

Sherry sighed as she arrived at the safehouse. It didn’t look like there was much security, but she knew better than to think that. 

_Maybe they’ll notice..?_

Sherry tried knocking on the door. To her surprise, a small teenager answered within seconds. 

“Is that... the Red Hood?” 

“Yes,” Sherry confirmed. “This is one of his safehouses, right?” 

The teenager’s eyes narrowed in suspicion. “...Come in.” 

“Okay.” 

Sherry entered the house, which looked like a tornado had struck it; clothes were everywhere, there was food on the counter, and it didn’t look like it had been used in days. 

“So what’s your name?” the teenager asked. 

“Sherry,” Sherry answered calmly. “And yours?” 

“Timothy,” the teenager replied, “but feel free to call me Tim.” 

“It’s nice to meet you.” 

_Detective Timothy Jackson Drake-Wayne, right? Born and raised in Gotham, Co-CEO of Wayne Enterprises, Red Robin... It’s not surprising he’s unfazed, even with a random girl and Red Hood at his door._

“Why did you come here of all places?” Tim asked. 

Sherry shrugged. “Last I knew it was Hood’s place. I’m sorry to intrude.” 

“...Oh. Well he hasn’t ever lived here as far as I know. This is private property of the Waynes.” 

“Again, sorry for intruding. I’ll be going now, if that’s okay. I’m a little late for work.” 

“No, please stay here,” Tim said. Sherry could tell it wasn’t really a request. “Do you work for Wayne Enterprises in any way? I’ll tell them to-” 

“I’m part of the GCPD.” 

Suspicion showed in eyes for only a moment. 

“Okay. I’ll talk to Commissioner-” 

“Can you help me take care of Hood?” 

“I guess he’s done enough for the city,” Tim said. “I can’t turn down helping someone if I can help them, too. Here, I’ll help you put him on the couch.” 

They’d just set Hood down when a voice sounded from another room. 

“Timbers? Is someone there?” 

“Yeah,” Tim confirmed, instantly looking frustrated. 

“You made a new friend? Cool!” 

The person was next to them in an instant, landing from a perfectly-executed double-flip. 

_Nightwing._

“I’m Richard, but you can call me Dick,” Richard said. “What’s your name?” 

“Sherry,” Sherry answered, wondering just how many vigilantes were in this building. “What happened to your arm?” 

Richard glanced to the arm she’d gestured at, which was covered in a long bandage. 

"I fell off a ledge in the house and ended up cutting it on a knife that was on the counter. Not advisable.” 

“...Okay.” 

“Tt,” someone else said from the entrance to the room from Richard had come. “Who is this imbecile, Drake?” 

“I’m Sherry,” Sherry stated before ‘Drake’ could answer. 

“I am Damian Wayne.” 

_Robin._

“It’s nice to meet you, Damian.” 

“Tt. You should be grateful you received a chance such as this to be in my presence.” 

“...Okay?” Sherry flashed Tim a confused look. 

“He’s always like this,” Tim said, rolling his eyes. 

“I do not see the problem,” Damian stated. 

“The problem,” Tim replied, “is that you’re a pretentious, arrogant brat who lacks any respect for anyone but yourself, your parents, Ra’z, and ‘Grayson’.” 

“Tim!” Richard exclaimed. “That was a little harsh.” 

“The truth is always harsh,” Tim deadpanned. 

“You’re just jealous, Drake,” Damian said. 

“Jealous of what?” Tim retorted. “How you lack any grip on reality? How you fail to recognize how truly insignificant you are? How you can’t control the urge to try to kill everyone you don’t like? How-” 

“Tim, that’s enough,” Richard interrupted. Tim cut off abruptly. 

“Yeah,” Sherry added. “There’s no reason to be fighting.” 

“Tt,” Damian said before leaving. 

There was an awkward pause where Tim glared at Richard. 

“Do you have any bandages?” Sherry asked. “I’ve run out.” 

“I’ll go get some,” Tim said before leaving, leaping at the chance to get out of the room. 

“Is that the Red Hood?” Richard asked, finally seeming to notice the strange man on the couch. 

“Think so,” Sherry replied. “I found him in his territory, right near Park Row.” 

Richard paused. 

“What?” 

“Sorry,” Richard apologized for no reason. “It’s just weird to hear anyone call it Park Row anymore... It’s also kind of unsettling to have a vigilante in the house.” 

_Likely story,_ Sherry thought. 

“What is this house anyway?” Sherry asked. “Some kind of Wayne hangout house?” 

Richard laughed. “I guess you could say that. We’ve been thinking about making it a warehouse, but we don’t know what we’d store in it.” 

“Lost vigilantes apparently like it here,” Sherry joked. “I’ve seen him around here enough to assume it was his hideout spot.” 

“Huh. Maybe we should pay more attention to that.” 

“Maybe.” 

There was a short pause. 

“Do you know who hurt him?” 

“No clue,” Sherry replied. 

“I got the bandages,” Tim announced, returning. 

“Do you think you’re able to take care of him? I have to go to work.” 

“Yeah,” Tim replied. 

“Okay,” Sherry said. “Bye.” 

“Bye.” 

Sherry had a feeling it wouldn’t be the last time she saw them. 

_Yeah,_ she thought. _It would be weird if they_ didn’t _find me again._

— 

“You didn’t have to kidnap me,” Sherry said, glancing around the dark room. There was a dim light overhead, barely illuminating the small vigilante. 

Red Robin shrugged. “Wasn’t my idea.” 

“Whose was it?” Sherry asked. 

“Mine,” the Red Hood dramatically stepped into the light. 

_Of course,_ Sherry thought to herself. _They kidnap me, and it’s because they listened to Gotham’s Worst Drama Queen, and now I have to deal with him._

“I’m sorry I was concerned about your safety,” Sherry snapped. “Maybe next time, I’ll leave you in the alleyway either to bleed out or to get killed by some person you pissed off during your illegal operations.” 

Red Hood seemed irritated. Red Robin sighed. 

A door opened, filling the room with sudden and harsh brightness. 

“Hey guys!” Nightwing’s cheery voice sounded, drowning out both Red Robin’s and Red Hood’s irritated groans. “I brought coffee!” 

“Give it!” Red Robin snapped, swiping a cup away from Nightwing. 

“That was for Jaybird!” 

“I don’t care.” 

“Timbers...” 

“No names.” 

“She already knows, doesn’t she?” 

“We don’t know how much she knows.” 

“Speaking of that,” Red Hood said, swiping the coffee away from Red Robin. “How much do you know?” 

“Too much for your liking..?” Sherry answered. 

“How much?” Red Hood pressed. 

“I know all your identities.” 

“Sh*t.” 

Red Robin and Nightwing exchanged a nervous look. 

“...How did you find out?” Red Robin asked. 

Sherry shrugged. “I just got interested. I moved to Gotham a while back, so when I did, I started looking for your identities. Things clicked after a while. When you think about it, Batman must be pretty rich. He also knows all these kids somehow, which can be explained through his kids and them knowing people. Honestly, Hood, Oracle, and Spoiler were the hardest to figure out.” 

“How did you figure us out?” Red Hood pressed. 

“Lots of guesswork, which led to plenty of clues. Some detective work. It was pretty simple, actually.” 

“Does anyone else know about our identities?” 

_Leonie did._

“No.” 

Red Robin cast a suspicious glance her way, but he seemed too preoccupied with the coffee that Nightwing gave him. Except... he’d already finished the first coffee? He downed the second one in a single gulp. 

“Are you sure no one else knows? You didn’t take notes people might be able to find?” Nightwing asked. 

“If anyone found the notes I took, it would be my sister.” 

“Do you still have the notes?” 

“Not on me, obviously. They’re in my room.” 

“Hood?” 

“On it,” Hood replied, some message having been communicated. 

“You’re going to destroy my notes, aren’t you?” 

“Sorry,” Red Robin replied. 

“What are you going to do after that? Erase my memory?” 

“I don’t know. We’ll at least be keeping an eye on you.” 

“ _Yay,_ ” Sherry put as much sarcasm as she could into her voice. “Just what I always wanted.” 

“It’s standard procedure.” 

“Of course. ‘Cause I’m some sort of potential threat.” 

“Yeah.” 

“How am I threatening?” 

“You know our identities, which means you’d have to be pretty smart-” 

Sherry laughed. “I don’t think anyone has to be smart to find out your identities. You’re failing at hiding them.” 

“...Okay.” 

“Maybe you should focus on preventing people from learning your identities rather than watching the ever-growing number of people who do know.” 

“I try,” Red Robin replied. “It’s just not my main priority. B, on the other hand, is obsessed with secrets. I’m more focused on saving people.” 

“Huh.” 

“Well, it doesn’t seem like there’s any more reason to keep you here,” Red Robin said. 

“I’m gonna tell B about this,” Nightwing stated before leaving. 

“Okay,” Red Robin said. 

— 

Sherry regained consciousness in her bedroom. After checking her notes to find them missing, she assumed it was more than just a strange dream. 

She sat up, greeted with the familiar cork-board which used to be filled with information from crime scene investigations she needed to solve. Now remained only one unsolved case: the death of Leonie Blumenthal.


	2. Destiny Evans

Destiny glared out the window as they traveled to her new home. She wasn’t looking forward to this. She remembered exactly how she’d gotten herself into this situation. 

_“You seem like you could use a loving family,” the man said, the normal dorky smile replaced by grim sincerity._

_Destiny glared at the man—Bruce Wayne—in defiance. “I don’t want your sympathy.”_

_“I think you could use someone who looks after you.”_

_“I don’t want to become part of your stupid family.”_

_“That’s okay, just... think on it, okay?”_

_“Fine, but don’t expect me to join you guys.”_

_“I’ll wait. I understand that it’s hard losing your parents. I’ve been there too. Take care of yourself, okay?”_

_“Yeah, whatever.”_

_“I’ll be back next week.”_

She’d accepted it. The offer was better than spending more time in juvenile prison. She’d realized that after the incident. 

“Are you okay?” Bruce asked. 

“I’m fine. Leave me alone.” 

“I’m just concerned. You seem like you’ve been trying to burn a hole through my window.” 

Destiny tossed a look at Bruce before returning to staring at the quickly-moving world around them. She hadn’t been in many vehicles. It was a strange thought, her going home. People didn’t want to adopt a troublesome, disobedient, disrespectful, orphan. 

Apparently Bruce didn’t care about that. She’d heard about how Bruce Wayne tended to adopt orphans. Some of the others she knew from the orphanages waited hopefully like morons for the day Bruce would adopt them. She never thought anyone in their right mind would adopt her. 

Maybe Bruce wasn’t in his. 

The rich neighborhood was a lot more deserted than the neighborhoods to which she was accustomed. She could barely see the shape of houses past the trees and the long driveways. She realized how much time had passed only once they stopped in front of the biggest house she’d ever seen. 

“Is that..?” Destiny began. 

“Wayne Manor,” Bruce said. The butler who had been completely quiet opened the door for them. They entered, thanking him. 

“B!” someone yelled seconds after they entered, “Damian and Jason are fighting and I can’t get them to stop! Also, I may have accidentally set fire to the kitchen.” 

“You’re not supposed to use the kitchen,” Bruce answered. 

The butler excused himself, likely to go deal with whoever Damian and Jason were. 

“Who’s this?” the person asked, gesturing at Destiny. 

“This is Destiny.” 

“What’s she doing here?” 

“She’s your new sibling.” 

“Yay!” the person exclaimed. “I’m Dick. It’s nice to meet you.” 

“...Okay,” Destiny replied. 

“Again?” this time the voice came from a small boy who barely looked older than her. His messy hair and coffee mug suggested he had just woken up, and the dark circles under his eyes betrayed his lack of sleep. 

“...Tim, meet Destiny,” Bruce said. “Destiny, this is Tim.” 

“Nice to meet you,” Tim greeted before turning to Bruce. “Try not to traumatize this one, okay?” 

Bruce grunted. He didn’t seem much for words. 

“‘This one’?” Destiny questioned. “How many siblings do I have..?” 

“Five?” Dick said. He started counting on his fingers. “Yeah, five.” 

“...Friend..?” the black-haired girl seemed confused. 

_Does everyone other than the butler have black hair?_ Destiny wondered. _No, Bruce has dark brown hair._

“Sister,” Dick seemed to be correcting her. 

“Sister?” 

“Like brother, only a girl. You’re my sister.” 

The girl nodded. She walked over to Destiny and held out her hand. 

“Cass,” the girl said. 

“That’s... your name..?” 

Cass nodded. 

“I’m Destiny.” 

Cass nodded again. 

“Can she speak English?” Destiny asked, turning to Bruce. 

“Little,” Cass announced. 

“Yes, she can speak some English,” Bruce confirmed. 

“...Okay,” Destiny replied. 

“Tt. Father, who is this?” 

Destiny immediately hated the snotty kid she saw in front of her. He was shorter than her, and he looked skinny, but something about him set off every alarm she’d developed. 

Especially the one that told her someone was willing to kill her. 

“This is your sister, Destiny,” Bruce Wayne answered. 

“Tt,” Damian turned to Destiny. “I am Damian Wayne.” 

“Nice to meet you,” she responded, although she would’ve preferred never having met him. 

Damian simply nodded before exiting the room, leaving Destiny to wonder what that nod meant. 

“Don’t mind Damian,” Tim said. “He warms up to most people.” 

“Most people?” Destiny said. 

“Yeah.” 

Destiny was left in confusion as Tim walked away without further context. 

“Let me give you a tour of the house!” Dick exclaimed, grabbing Destiny’s wrist enthusiastically and dragging her to the next room. Once Dick finished, he left her more lost in the mansion than when she first arrived. 

_I’m never going to get used to it here._

Destiny flopped onto the bed that was apparently hers and sighed. 

_I’m never going to call this place home._

She was used to short-term apartments and crappy hotel rooms. She was used to the choice between bad living conditions and bad food. She had heard her parents blaming themselves too many times, even though she knew they were only struggling because they decided to have her. 

This was too much for her. 

— 

By the second day in the manor Destiny had already noticed some weirdness—Bruce pouring coffee into the wrong side of the mug, Dick putting coffee in his cereal, Tim chugging five energy drinks before getting the sixth taken away, only to replace it with coffee—and she had only assumed the family was addicted to coffee. That was it. Nothing else was weird. 

She heard Damian say something in a foreign language. Okay, not too weird—her own parents were bilingual—but when she heard Dick’s reply, which was obviously in a completely different language, she began questioning things. 

She had no trouble telling the brothers apart, despite Bruce seeming to have some weird obsession with black hair. They all had different skin tones and sizes, and they all treated her differently. She’d already decided that Damian was a brat. Somehow, he’d found out her last name and had been calling her ‘Evans’ ever since. 

Eventually, a blonde-haired lady all but kicked down the door, yelled ‘I’m home!’ and ran over to Cass to give her a hug. 

“Who’s this?” the lady asked. 

“Destiny,” Cass said. “Sister.” 

“...Hi?” Destiny greeted. 

“Hey!” the lady yelled, startling Destiny half to death with a sudden handshake. “I’m Steph.” 

_I am sick of her already._

“Who’s ready to get this party started?” Steph called. A moment later, Tim had rushed over to and hugged Steph. 

“You’re back!” Tim exclaimed. 

“No, I’m Steph,” Steph corrected. 

“Seriously?” 

“Who’re we gonna prank?” 

“Dick.” 

Destiny raised an eyebrow at them but made no comments. She simply made her way back to her room to work on her reading. 

It was a matter of minutes before a high-pitched squeak interrupted her reading. She rushed over to see what was wrong, only to find Dick covered in dark blue-colored iced water. 

“When I said I liked blue I didn’t mean I wanted to _be_ blue!” Dick said, frantically searching for a towel. 

“But don’t you like being blue?” Tim asked. 

“You look beautiful,” Steph commented. 

“No...” Dick protested. 

“Now you _have_ to stay with us!” Steph declared. 

“But-” 

“What do you mean ‘stay with us’?” Destiny asked. 

“Oh, that’s right,” Tim said. “You don’t know.” 

“I was only here for the weekend,” Dick explained. “I’m going back to my wife and kid in a bit.” 

“Oh, really? I didn’t know you got married,” Destiny said. “What’s your kid’s name?” 

“Mar’i,” Dick answered. “She’s the sweetest little thing.” 

“She tried to bite my finger off,” Tim said, disgruntled. 

“Children just naturally hate you,” someone said. “Ask Damian.” 

“Why?” Tim cried in despair. 

“I don’t hate you,” Destiny said. “I just think you’re annoying.” 

Tim frowned. 

_Wait..._

“Aren’t you supposed to be dead or something?” Destiny asked the person she barely recognized. 

“Yep,” Jason said. “Didn’t like the afterlife, though, so I left.” 

“...What?” 

“I’m legally alive again,” Jason said. “These imbeciles just thought I was dead.” 

“Hey!” Tim said, protesting against his hair being ruffled. 

_I’m gonna have to add this to my weird list,_ Destiny decided. 

— 

“What’s that?” Destiny asked, looking over Tim’s shoulder at his computer screen. 

“Case work,” Tim answered without looking away from the screen. 

“Case work?” 

“I’m a detective.” 

“I thought you were the CEO of Wayne Enterprises.” 

“Co-CEO. Can I not be both?” 

“Is that _all_ you do, or are you crazy enough to have another job?” 

“I’m a technician too.” 

“What the heck is wrong with you people?” 

“Half of us have coffee addictions, we all have horrible sleeping schedules, most of us are traumatized people who lost their parents, and we’re all a little insane.” 

Destiny didn’t know how to respond, so she just left. 

— 

It was day three, and Destiny could’ve sworn Jason was in the library. She’d gone to check on him because there had been a weird noise, but- 

_He’s... gone?_

She sighed and returned to her daily activities, not bothering to try to wrap her head around it. 

— 

“Why do you have a sword?” 

“Tt,” Damian responded. 

“He has a sword ‘cause he’s Demon Brat,” Tim answered nonchalantly. “Be careful; he might attempt to kill you while you’re sleeping.” 

“You’re not safe, _Drake_ ,” Damian warned with a scowl on his face. 

“I know.” 

Destiny only had one thought as she left: 

_What on earth is wrong with this family?_


	3. Selina Kyle

Selina had only a single thought as she signed the adoption papers: 

_Oh, no. I’m becoming Bruce._

After she signed them came more thoughts. How was she supposed to raise two orphaned kids? What would she do if they learned she was Catwoman, or worse, what would she do if they were allergic to cats? They had never been allergy tested, so it was possible. 

All her worries—well, most—melted away when she looked at the excited smiles they had. 

“Clyde, Clyde!” Chloe yelped. “We’re gonna have a mommy again!” 

“I know,” the older of the two responded. He stayed much calmer, but his bright eyes and smile betrayed his excitement. 

“Will we have a daddy too?” Chloe asked, vibrating with energy. 

“No, just me,” Selina said, before adding more in response to Chloe’s crestfallen face. “Maybe someday I’ll get married, and then you’ll have a dad, too.” 

“Okay.” 

“For now, it’s just me. I do have to close friends who will be around often.” 

“Really?” 

“Yeah. Their names are Harley and Pamela.” 

“Who would name their kid Harley in _this_ city?” Clyde wondered. 

“She was called Harley before Harley Quinn was a villain.” 

“Oh.” 

“You’ll also probably get to see Bruce,” Selina said. 

“Is he gonna be our dad?” Chloe asked. 

Selina laughed. “I doubt he’ll ever settle down with someone.” 

“Oh,” Chloe said. “Okay.” 

— 

“Is that a cat?” Clyde asked. 

“Yeah,” Selina answered. 

“What’s its name?” Chloe asked. 

“His name is Oreo,” Selina answered. 

“Aw, that’s such a cute name!” Chloe said excitedly, scratching behind Oreo’s ear. “Almost as cute as you, you fluffy little kitty!” 

Chloe’s ability to immediately befriend Oreo impressed Selina; even she’d had trouble befriending him. 

“There’s another kitty!” Chloe exclaimed. 

Soon, Chloe was covered in at least seven cats. There must’ve been something about her that attracted every stray cat Selina had ever let wander around her house. Selina had only officially adopted her a few hours ago, but she couldn’t be prouder. These were _her_ kids. She’d defend them with her life. 

“Who are they?” 

Oh, and there was her biological kid, one she’d never told Bruce he was the father of, but one she knew Bruce knew about anyway. 

“Hello, Helena,” Selina greeted. “These are the kids I was planning on adopting. Clyde, Chloe, this is Helena. Helena, this is Clyde and the one covered in cats is Chloe.” 

“Are you the new sister Miss Selina mentioned?” Chloe asked. 

“Yes.” 

“Cool!” 

They got along fine, much to Selina’s pleasure. She would have to explain to Helena that the two kids didn’t, and _shouldn’t_ know about their other life. 

Selina hadn’t always been a vigilante; no, she was a thief beforehand. She’d joined the Bats in their crusade last year after they saved her life. It hadn’t taken her long to learn Batman’s identity, and his kids followed soon after that. Her—and Bruce’s—daughter, Helena, learned about their crusade, and, in an act of rebellion, got trained by Helena Bertineli before joining them as the new Huntress. One who didn’t kill, much to Bruce’s pleasure. 

Selina was still friends with a few Gotham criminals. She had remained good friends with Harley and Ivy, who had started dating after Harley left Joker. They had joined Hood in being anit-heroes. 

“Mommy?” Chloe asked, startling Selina out of her thoughts. 

“Yes, Kitten?” 

“When are we going to eat?” 

_Right, food._

“How about we go to a restaurant right now, okay?” Selina suggested. 

“Yay!” Chloe squealed, bouncing hyperactively. 

— 

“Bruce?” Selina said over the phone. How was she going to explain this? 

“Selina.” 

“I _might_ have picked up a few strays.” 

Bruce grunted. “Why is this important?” 

“They’re not cats, Bruce, they’re-” Selina sighed “-children.” 

There was a long pause before a small snort sounded from the other side of the phone. 

“You can’t tease me, Bruce!” Selina objected. “I know you have six kids cooped up in that house of yours!” 

“Seven,” Bruce corrected. “You haven’t met Destiny.” 

“What the heck, Bruce?” Selina asked. 

“...I may have adopted another.” 

“Don’t you have five kids, a biological daughter, a kid you’re acting as a father figure for, _and_ a grandkid?” 

“...There’s going to be another grandkid soon.” 

“What the heck!?” 

“You have at least ten cats, Selina.” 

“ _Cats,_ Bruce, _cats_ ,” Selina said. “It’s not the same.” 

“Plenty of people have seven kids,” Bruce said. 

“Are you going for the ‘has the most kids’ award,” Selina asked, “‘cause I’m pretty sure you’re more likely to get the ‘most insane’ one.” 

“Very funny, Selina,” Bruce said, not sounding the least bit amused. 

“So,” Selina said, “do you think the kids and I could come over to the Manor tomorrow?” 

“I don’t think we have anything planned,” Bruce replied. “When do you plan on coming over?” 

“Does six sound okay?” 

“Yes,” Bruce answered. “I’ll tell the others.” 

“Okay,” Selina said. “Bye.” 

Bruce grunted before hanging up, leaving Selina all alone. She paused, staring to the window. She couldn’t go out tonight, but she guessed there would be a swarm of Bats protecting the city already. Thinking about it, she went to check on her part of the swarm. 

Helena wasn’t there; instead lay a piece of paper. 

_Out - be back soon._

Selina sighed. She preferred to be with Helena on patrol, but she couldn’t stop her more than Bruce could stop either of them, and Selina wouldn’t have it any other way. 

After a moment, she put down the paper and left the room, locking the door. She moved to the next room. She only had to crack the door open to see Chloe, spread across the messy bed, already fast asleep. A faint smile touched Selina’s lips as she closed the door. 

Last came Clyde. She found him sitting by his bed side, leaning against the bed. He seemed half asleep at first, but he noticed her and sprang up with a jolt. 

“Oh,” he said. “It’s just you.” 

“Is something wrong?” Selina asked. 

“I just-” Clyde started. “I miss my parents.” 

“It’ll be okay,” Selina said, walking closer to him. “Bad things happen to good people.” 

“Too many bad things happen in this city,” Clyde huffed as he flopped back into his original position. “I just- I don’t get it. Why do good people even live here?” 

“I don’t know,” Selina answered truthfully, sitting down next to him. 

“Why do _you_ live here?” 

“Gotham is my home. It may be full of crooks and maniacs, but I know how to defend myself. If you want, I can teach you and Chloe self-defense. Would that make you feel better?” 

“Yeah,” Clyde said. 

“Okay,” Selina said, ruffling his hair. “I’ll do that.” 

“Miss Kyle?” 

“Yeah?” 

“Can I have a hug?” 

Selina smiled. “Of course, sweetheart. I’ll always be willing to give you hugs.” 

“Thanks,” Clyde said. 

As Selina wrapped her arms around her new kid, she thought about how lucky she must’ve been to have survived long enough to start a family. She knew plenty of people who hadn’t managed that, and she knew of people who had gotten a family together only for Gotham to rip it apart as fiercely as a starved dog eats its food. 

— 

The next morning, Helena came home with a large gash down her right arm. 

“What happened?” Selina exclaimed, rushing over to her. 

“Some of the crazies tried to get me,” Helena said. “I got out, though. You should’ve seen Red Robin.” 

“You got to meet Red Robin?” Chloe asked excitedly. “What was he like?” 

“He was arguing with Robin the entire time,” Helena replied. 

“Oh, that’s right,” Chloe said. “I heard Robin’s a jerk.” 

Selina held back a laugh. “Chloe, don’t believe everything you hear.” 

“Even if it’s true,” Helena added quietly. 

“Helena!” 

— 

“It’s nice to see you again,” Selina said. 

“Nice to see you-” 

“You’re Bruce Wayne!” Chloe yelped. “Mommy, you never said we’d get to meet Bruce Wayne!” 

“I guess I forgot to mention him,” Selina said. 

“You _did_ mention meeting Bruce,” Chloe said, “but I thought you meant some idiot, not Bruce Wayne!” 

“I don’t see the difference between ‘idiot’ and ‘Bruce Wayne’.” 

Selina recognized the young man at once. 

“Jason! It’s so nice to see you again,” she greeted. 

“Yeah, whatever,” Jason replied. “Anyone should be grateful to be allowed to bask in my glory. Ow!” 

Tim, who had just hit Jason, looked er at Selina, noticing the kids. He seemed like he wished to be anywhere else. 

“Hi!” Chloe greeted enthusiastically. “I’m Chloe.” 

“I’m Tim,” Tim responded. He looked ten times more awkward than usual, and he probably felt more awkward than he seemed. Selina wondered if something was wrong. 

“Can we be friends?” Chloe asked excitedly. “I wanna be friends!” 

“Uh... okay,” Tim replied. 

Chloe hopped joyfully as she started talking enthusiastically to Tim about whatever crossed her mind. Clyde started talking to Jason after a while, and they seemed to get along just fine. Helena joined their conversation easily, everything was going well. 

_I wonder how it will get messed up this time._

Selina had the chance to meet Destiny, who reminded her of a small angry kitten. Like Damian, who had the personality of a grumpy cat with chosen favorites. 

The most surprising thing about the dinner—other than everyone getting along—was that the only interruption was because Bruce had to leave for a Wayne Enterprises. 

Selina looked at her kids with a smile on her face. She’d been lucky to get this far in life, and she was lucky to have such a wonderful family. 

She couldn’t be happier.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Hey, sorry! I’m not posting this Monday. I’ll post two chapters tomorrow.


	4. Clyde Elliot

There was something off about Selina, and it only took a moment for Clyde to decide that Bruce was unusual, too. It had passed with Selina, but Bruce wearing thick makeup was a little unusual. Either he got someone else to do it, or he was skilled. 

_Maybe he’s practicing for the parties?_

The Wayne kids were incredibly unruly for people who had always seemed so composed on the news. Because of how they were acting, Clyde was the surprised that Tim and Damian always had a sibling between them. They were at the table for a total of three seconds before Tim got a knife thrown at him. He caught it with amazing reflexes for which Clyde could only wish. 

“Hey Demon Spawn,” Tim said loudly before chucking the knife back at Damian. “Take your knife back!” 

“That’s not how you properly throw a knife, _Drake_.” 

“Both of you, behave,” Bruce said, a warning in his voice. 

“Tt.” 

“Sorry, Bruce.” 

Clyde raised an eyebrow at Tim, who seemed to have shrunk to half his original size. When the butler walked in, all of them seemed immediately twice as... well-behaved? No knives were being thrown anymore, at least. 

“How do you know Selina?” Clyde asked. 

“We’re good friends,” Bruce replied. 

“What’s your favorite color?” Chloe asked excitedly, leaning forward in anticipation as if the fate of the entire world depended on his answer. 

“...Black?” 

“Cool! Mine’s green. _Lime_ green. Not the other shades. Most of them look bad. What’s your favorite color?” 

“Anything but lime green,” Jason answered bluntly, “or any light shade of green, really.” 

“Why?” 

“I just... _really_ don’t like it.” 

“Why?” 

Jason seemed a little annoyed. “I. Just. Don’t. Like. Green.” 

“That’s too bad,” Chloe said. “What’s your favorite color?” 

“Only an imbecile would choose to participate in the action of deciding a preferred color.” 

“He likes green,” Tim said. 

“Really? I like green too!” Chloe exclaimed. 

“I do not have an absurd preference for the color green!” Damian protested. 

“You’re really living up to your nicknames, Demon Brat,” Tim said. 

“Tt.” 

“Jason likes red, too,” Tim said. 

“Okay,” Chloe replied. 

_Why is this family so strange..?_ Clyde wondered. When he thought of the Waynes, he thought of a nice, civilized family who definitely fit the role of ‘rich snobs’. He didn’t expect... this. 

— 

After dinner, they went back to Selina’s house, which was pretty normal, save for the collection of stray cats. Several of them were already piled on Chloe by the time Clyde walked through the front door. It was an amusing sight, as each cat was about half Chloe’s height. 

“Chloe,” Selina said softly, fluffing Chloe’s hair. “It’s time for bed. You can play with the cats tomorrow, okay?” 

“Okay,” Chloe replied before setting the cats down with a disappointed pout. 

Clyde grabbed Chloe’s hand instinctively as they went upstairs, a habit he’d picked up in the orphanage. He’d never felt completely safe there, but he didn’t have to worry about that here. Selina was nice. She gave them three meals a day, nice beds, comfortable clothes, and lots of love and affection, yet... 

_There’s something different about her,_ he guessed, _and I don’t think it’s because she’s like Chloe._

— 

Clyde couldn’t sleep. For some reason, he felt restless. Everything was calm and quiet, but it felt like a lull before the storm would worsen. His couldn’t stay asleep, and he checked the clock several times. Twelve fifty-four, it read, bright bluish-green and glowing in the dark. It was unfamiliar; the only clock he was used to was the old grandfather clock in his parent’s house. 

_Crash!_

_Are we being robbed?_ Clyde questioned frantically. He rushed out of his room, not thinking to grab a weapon. 

_Where did it come from?_

There was a smaller noise of something hitting the floor, so he rushed over to where it came from: Selina’s room. He only had a fleeting thought about her privacy, which was quickly shut down because she could be still asleep and whoever planned on stealing from hem might try to kill her. Besides, she could’ve been fighting the burglar. 

Clyde flung open the door, ready to confront whoever was robbing, and... 

“Catwoman?” he raised an eyebrow. 

“I-” 

“I thought you were a better thief than that.” 

“Thanks, but-” 

“What happened to you leg?” he wondered, glancing around the room, which gave him a much more urgent question. 

“Well-” 

“Where’s Selina?” he asked, his voice stern. “You didn’t do anything to her, did you?” 

“Just let me talk!” Catwoman snapped. 

“Sorry.” 

“Look, I- I don’t know how to explain this, but,” she took off the mask, “I’m not here to steal anything.” 

“SELINA? What the heck happened to your leg?” 

“Someone broke it,” she explained with annoyance. “Then his buddies shot me.” 

“Why did they break your leg?” 

“I was fighting them.” 

“Was it Batman? Or one of his sidekicks? I swear I’ll-” 

“No,” Selina said, “and you couldn’t lay a finger on any of them anyway.” 

“Who were you fighting, then?” 

“Some criminals. They kidnapped Red Hood, so we went to save him.” 

“Red Hood? Wait, ‘we’?” 

“Batman was there, too. He’s the reason we were able to escape. Red Hood works with us.” 

“I though Red Hood was a criminal.” 

“He just does things differently. He prevents certain crimes from happening in his area, and the approach he takes to crimefighting allows him to get lots of intel.” 

“Please tell me I’m dreaming.” 

“I won’t lie to you.” 

“Do I just attract maniacs or something?” 

“Do you know of more of us?” 

“Well my uncle was a vigilante in Blüdhaven for a while. It’s why we lived in Gotham City. My parents cut ties with him and we learned that he died within his first year of it.” 

“I’m sorry to hear that.” 

“My cousin’s out for vengeance, or whatever, so she went off to find this stupid league thing. We haven’t heard from her since. The people who were found guilty of killing Uncle were murdered last year.” 

“The League of Shadows?” 

“I don’t know. Why are you crimefighting?” 

“Well, it started out as theft, but then I met Bruce, and-” 

“Bruce is involved in this?” 

“Sh*t. Wait, crap. Could you get the first aid kit and we can talk more later? I’ve got a phone call to make.” 

“Okay.” 

Clyde left the room, hearing only a ‘hey Bruce’ from Selina. He wasn’t sure he wanted to know how Bruce was involved. It only took him a moment to remember when the first aid kit was, and Selina’s lingering over pointing it out suddenly made a lot more sense. He grabbed it quickly and returned to Selina’s room. 

“I’m back,” he whispered, noticing that Selina was still on the phone. 

“How is he?” Selina asked followed, by a pause. “That’s good. I hope he gets better soon... I’ve gotta go. Clyde’s back... Good night.” 

“Why is Bruce up at this hour?” 

“Um, well...” she said. “He’s Batman.” 

“ _What?_ ” 

“He’s Batman.” 

“I thought he was just some rich idiot.” 

Selina laughed. “He’s that, too.” 

“I guess he’s supposed to be acting like a fool to throw people off,” Clyde said, “but can’t he at least say he got self-defense classes because he and his family get kidnapped so much? It’s kind of inconvenient for the public to think he’s _completely_ defenseless.” 

“May I emphasize that he’s an idiot?” 

“Wait, are his kids involved in this too?” 

“You catch on quickly. Yes, they’re involved.” 

“Destiny is even younger than me!” 

“Oh, well... Last I knew she wasn’t involved. I think she’s training, but I’m not sure.” 

“What’s her name going to be?” 

“Don’t know.” 

“That’s an odd vigilante name,” Clyde joked. 

Selina smiled. “I don’t know to say if your jokes are better or as bad as Richard’s.” 

“I’d say better. He seems like an idiot.” 

“He’s a dork for sure.” 

“Is he involved?” 

“I can’t say. I’ll have to talk to everyone to see how much it’s okay for you to know.” 

“Okay.” 

There was a silence for a while. The moment after he’d processed everything—Selina being Catwoman, Bruce being Batman, the Wayne kids being vigilantes, and Helena possibly being involved—his unsettlement from earlier returned. 

“Hey, Selina?” 

“Yeah?” 

“Can you teach me self-defense?” 

“Of course! Though we’ll have to in a few weeks. My leg needs to heal.” 

“Hm... Do you think Bruce would be willing to train me while you’re healing?” 

“Probably. I’ll ask him.” 

“Okay.” 

“Why do you want to learn self-defense?” 

“I just,” Clyde shifted uncomfortably, “feel like something bad is going to happen.” 

“I’ll tell the others to be careful.” 

“Okay.” 

“Now, let’s get some rest and we can talk more about this in the morning, ‘kay?” 

“Okay. Good night.” 

“Good night, Clyde.” 

— 

“Are we starting my training?” Clyde asked Selina. They’d left for Wayne Manor that morning. 

He had thought everyone was distracted. Jason was talking with Helena. Chloe was pestering Tim, who was trying to do something on his laptop. Cass and some blonde girl were doing... something? Damian and Destiny were still in their rooms. 

Still, the moment he asked, five heads turned, and several people started talking at the same time. 

“You’re not-” 

“What’s he mean by ‘training’?” Helena cut Jason off mid-sentence. 

“Please don’t,” Tim said. 

“What?” the blonde asked. 

Cass tilted her head to the side, seeming curious. “Training?” 

“No, self-defense training, I won’t,” Selina said. “We’re just teaching Clyde a few things, and I have a broken leg, so Bruce is starting.” 

“Good,” Jason responded. 

“Does he know?” Tim asked. 

“Me and Bruce.” 

“Okay.” 

Clyde felt like he was missing a dozen different implications, but he didn’t dare ask. Selina and Bruce started walking, so he followed, throwing a confused glance back towards everyone else. Jason and Helena had gone back to talking, but it was in hushed tones, so Clyde couldn’t hear a thing. Tim looked up from his computer, seeming cautious of something. Cass and the blonde girl had gone back to whatever they were doing. 

Clyde, unlike most people when they entered the Bat-cave, wasn’t really impressed. To him, it was just some cave with cars, a computer, some medical place, and some weird trophies. 

_Why is there a dinosaur in the Bat-cave?_

“What’s with the giant penny?” 

“Two-face,” Bruce answered. 

“What about him? You don’t work with him, do you?” 

“No.” 

“Bruce was friends with Harvey before the incident that made Harvey Two-Face,” Selina said. “That penny is there because Bruce keeps souvenirs of his fights.” 

“Okay..?” Clyde was confused. 

“So, are you ready to start training?” 

“Of course!” 

— 

They trained for about two hours, started with stretches light exercises, moving on to learning moves, and finishing with a cool-down. Clyde wasn’t really feeling too cooled-down, though. He was exhausted, hot, and covered in sweat. They let him use a shower in Wayne Manor. It took him about five minutes to find his way back to everyone. 

_Does this manor_ have _to be so huge?_ he wondered. 

Selina had already gathered Helena and Chloe into the entry room. 

“C’mon, Chloe,” he said, grabbing her hand. “Let’s go home.” 

Still, he felt like something bad was going to happen. 

He wasn’t sure they’d be able to defend themselves.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Special thanks to my friend/proofreader, who caught the amazing typo ‘first aid kid’.


	5. Leonie Blumenthal

Everything was dark. 

It was so dark she couldn’t see the shadows. The walls were unclear, and she had to feel for one on which to lean. 

Everything hurt. 

She couldn’t remember what it was like without the pain. Every joint ached as she moved, and it barely dulled down once she had leaned against the wall. 

“You took a while to wake up,” someone commented. 

She looked around, even though she couldn’t see anything. 

“What happened?” someone else asked. “Was it a deadly disease? Those take a while to heal.” 

“What?” she asked. “Where am I?” 

“Don’t worry,” the first person said soothingly. “You’re alive.” 

“WHAT KIND OF ANSWER IS THAT?” 

“An accurate one,” the second person answered. “So what killed you?” 

“What what?” 

“What killed you?” 

“I’m-” she cut off abruptly. “I thought you said I wasn’t dead.” 

“You were. Not anymore.” 

She paused, thinking. She remembered the sensation of a hand around her neck. Her heart was racing, fingers twitching, brain swimming- 

_Bang!_

“Was zur Hölle?” 

“Ah, a bilingual” the second person said. “Is that why they picked you?” 

“I’m not bilingual, duncauf,” she replied. “I just- I know swears and slang.” 

“Wow. Okay. Did you just learn all of those to cuss people out without them knowing?” 

“No, I-” she stopped. 

“Right, that was probably insensitive. You don’t have your memories, do you? Don’t worry. They’ll come in due time.” 

“Why can’t I remember anything?” 

“You died. You’re...” the second person trailed off, looking for a word. 

“Rebooting?” the first person offered. 

“Oh,” she said. “Okay.” 

“Do you know your name, sweetheart?” 

“It’s not sweetheart,” she said. 

“Well, I guess I’m just calling you that for now, so get used to it. I’m Susan.” 

“It’s nice to meet you..?” 

“I’m Ronan,” the first person said. 

“Okay,” she said. “Where am I?” 

“It seems like you need to talk to the boss,” Susan observed. “C’mon, I’ll take you there.” 

“I’m not in a gang or something, am I? This isn’t some kind of cult, is it?” 

“No, sweetheart,” Susan said. “It’s more like...” 

“An association?” Ronan offered 

“Yeah, association.” 

“Are we going to talk to the boss or not?” she asked. 

“We are! He should be pretty welcoming. If he’s busy we’ll just talk to his second-in-command.” 

“Okay.” 

Susan grabbed her hand and led her to a door. Susan brought her into a long hallway and led her to a mirror at the end of it. In the reflection, she saw herself. 

Her appearance felt right. A little off, but right. Her fluffy curls fell down past her shoulder in messy coils, and her eyes looked dull and lifeless and exaggerated dark circles showed beneath them. Her skin looked closer to gray than the soft brown color it should’ve been, and her figure was unusually thin. She looked generally lifeless, as if she had been starving herself in her room without sleep for weeks. 

Susan, however, looked full of life, with long locks of strawberry blonde hair and light skin with pink cheeks and clear highlights. She had full makeup and clean clothes, with new shoes and bright jewelry. 

She looked at her old, tattered clothes and her rusted jewelry and wondered if she would be allowed to change. 

“I look like a zombie,” she remarked. 

“You _are_ a zombie,” Susan said. “Don’t worry; you won’t infect people with some kind of plague if you bite them, and you won’t have an urge to eat anyone’s brains.” 

“If you say so.” 

_Maybe this is just a weird dream._

“Boss?” Susan called, knocking on the mirror. A moment later the door opened. 

_Wow._

The boss was huge. He had tons of muscles, and he wore a bulletproof vest and grayscale armor. 

“Is Boss here?” Susan asked. 

She was confused for a moment, but she assumed that she had guessed who the boss was wrongly. 

The burly guy grunted and moved aside, his footsteps surprisingly unnoticeable. 

“Susan!” 

“Hey, Boss.” 

She froze. 

“Your boss...” she said, “is a child?” 

“I’m a teenager!” the boss said indignantly. 

Susan laughed. “Boss only looks like a kid because he was fourteen when he died. He hasn’t aged since.” 

“What about me?” she asked. 

“What about you?” Susan asked. 

“How old am I?” 

“You’re twenty,” the boss said simply. 

“How do you know?” she asked. 

“I knew you before you died.” 

“What?” 

“You were in my sixth grade science class.” 

“What?” 

“It’s okay,” the boss said. “Your memories will return in due time.” 

“...Okay.” 

“So this was a personal one?” Susan wondered. 

“Yes,” the boss answered. 

“In what-” 

“Your suffering isn’t over yet,” the boss said, “but we will attempt to prevent you from ever suffering again. In order to do that, we will train you, and we will find the one who hurt you.” 

“...Okay then.” 

She didn’t know what to think about the overdramatic teenager. 

— 

“Du spinnst wohl,” she said, looking at the obstacle course in front of her. “I thought you were preventing my suffering?” 

“It’s mandatory training,” Susan stated. 

“Is the rock wall really necessary?” 

“It’s mandatory.” 

“Why?” she complained, dragging her hands down her face. 

“It just is,” Susan said. “Now hop to it!” 

She groaned before making her way through the course with relative ease. She’d gotten so much better already. Her memories were returning pretty quickly in random order. Every now and then something would spark a memory, like when she broke her arm three weeks ago. It had brought back the memory of breaking her arm during soccer practice. 

She mostly just remembered this girl—blonde, blue eyes, white skin, pretty—whom she guessed had been around a lot. There were also people who looked similar to her, and she guessed they were her family. Blonde girl had a sister, but she never had parents around. 

She was confused. It was hard, having all these memories without any clue what people’s names were—what her own name was—and trying to keep track of what was happening in the present. It was like she was living two lives. 

“Ow,” she said after scraping a layer of skin off her hands as she fell back down the rock wall. “Fi** dich, rock wall!” 

“Calm down,” Susan said. 

“I AM PERFECTLY CALM!” she yelled as she kicked the rock wall. “Ow.” 

“Sweetheart, it’s okay,” Susan said. “Deep breaths. You’ll get it eventually.” 

“It doesn’t feel like I will!” 

“You said that about the last seven courses.” 

She huffed and walked over to the resting bench at the side of the room. After drinking some water, she was back at it. She practiced and practiced until Susan interrupted her for dinner. 

“C’mon, Sweetheart,” Susan said. “You have to eat!” 

“One more time,” she replied, cracking her knuckles and bracing herself. After falling back down the rock wall for what felt like the thousandth time, she complied. 

The others had nicknamed her ‘L’ or ‘S’, ‘L’ for ‘Love’ and ‘S’ for ‘Sweetheart’, both nicknames having originated from Susan. She liked ‘L’ better. 

— 

“You know, you remind me a lot of Sherry,” she said. They were in a small room with a wooden floor and light pinkish-beige walls. 

“Sherry?” Susan responded, not looking up from the puzzle she was solving. 

“Yeah,” she confirmed. “She had blonde hair and light skin too, though her skin was slightly darker than yours, and her hair was pure blonde. She always looked a little dead inside, too.” 

“And I don’t?” 

“No, you look alive. You’re really beautiful.” 

“Thank you,” Susan replied, distracted. 

“Sherry is the one I remember the most,” she said. 

“Really?” 

“Yeah. I think she was my best friend.” 

“What was she like?” 

“She was kind to people she didn’t know,” she said, “but she was a sarcastic a**hole to people she knew well, which included me.” 

“Are you calling me a sarcastic a**hole?” Susan asked. 

“No, no,” she said. “It’s mostly just the appearance, ‘cept the eyes.” 

Susan snorted. “What about them?” 

“Sherry’s eyes were really blue.” 

“Really? How blue?” 

“You could tell they were blue from a mile away,” she said. 

“Huh.” 

“Do you think I’ll ever get to see her again?” she asked. 

“Maybe,” Susan replied. “Fate works in strange ways. If you’re destined to know each other, you’ll see her again.” 

She sighed. “You’re not helpful.” 

“I get that sometimes,” Susan answered. “I think it’s ‘cause I don’t care.” 

“Maybe,” she said, flopping onto the pink bed in the corner of the room. 

“You good?” 

“I just wanna go home,” she muttered, quickly drifting off to sleep. 

— 

“What happened?” she squeaked. 

The bloody sight was something she’d have expected to see in some Gotham alleyway, not _here_ where everyone was relatively safe. 

“Mission gone wrong,” Susan answered nonchalantly. “Ronan, help me move them to the medical wing.” 

She watched as they left, carrying the person as they went. 

She wondered if that was how she would return after going on her first mission. 

— 

“You taking me here was a personal thing, right?” she asked the boss. “Why?” 

“You showed exemplary performance as a sixth grader,” Boss answered, calmly resting his elbows on the desk and making a triangle with his hands. “You were very athletic—the best of everyone—and you always won whatever challenge crossed your path. I trust you will do similarly here.” 

“Do you know my real name?” 

“Yes.” 

She leaned forward in the red velvet chair, eager. “Can you tell me it?” 

“It’s not customary, but,” the Boss said, “your name is Leonie.” 

“Huh,” She ignored the crash of memories and simply got up to leave. “Thanks for... telling me. Uh... bye.” 

“Farewell,” the Boss said, grabbing a paper from a stack and starting to read it. 

— 

“Now,” Susan said. “This is your first mission, so don’t expect everything to go smoothly.” 

“I don’t,” Leonie answered. “What do you want me to do again?” 

“Your mission is to steal a device that-” 

“Wait, steal?” 

“Yes. This device-” Susan tapped her wristwatch, which projected a hologram of said device “-has the potential to kill millions of people.” 

“Okay..?” 

“Don’t worry,” Susan said. “We’re the good guys. We’re not planning on using the device, just destroying it.” 

“Okay?” 

“Good luck.” 

“If we’re not-” 

“Break a leg.” 

_But if we’re not planning on using it, why are we taking it?_

— 

“I didn’t mean it literally!” Susan fretted. 

“We got the device?” 

“ _You broke your leg._ ” 

“It’ll heal.” 

“Not quickly!” 

“So does this mean I get to take a break from training?” 

“Of course not!” Susan snapped. 

“How’m I supposed to climb a rock wall like this?” Leonie asked. 

“You aren’t. We’ll have to change your training routine.” 

“Seriously?” Leonie groaned. “Do you guys do _anything_ other than train here?” 

“We organize and go on missions, and we research threats.” 

“You guys are so _boring_.” 

“Some of the missions are fun, once you get used to them.” 

Leonie groaned in annoyance and boredom. “Do we at least have board games?” 

“We do.” 

“Wait, really?” 

“Yeah. I’ll play one with you.” 

“Great!” 

— 

“You shall drown in a pit of your own misery,” Leonie said as Susan moved her piece. 

“You’re overly competitive,” Susan stated. 

“Shut up.” 

“It’s just a board game.” 

“Monopoly is a board game that instills spite within everyone who plays it.” 

“You’re an unusual young lady.” 

“I know,” Leonie said. “I get that a lot.” 

“Well, it’s accurate.” 

Leonie paused for a moment, falling into her thoughts as she grabbed the dice. 

“If Boss is forever fourteen, am I going to look twenty forever?” 

“Maybe,” Susan replied. “I haven’t aged since I died.” 

“How did you die?” 

“I had a terminal illness, and I couldn’t afford treatment.” 

“Oh.” 

“You might not want to ask people how they died, though. Some people are touchy about it. Ronan still hasn’t mentioned how he died.” 

“I think I was murdered.” 

“Really?” 

She shrugged. “I don’t think I pulled the trigger.” 

“I guess that’s what Boss meant by finding who hurt you. If you were killed, he probably wants to track down the killer.” 

“Why?” 

“He remembers everyone who’s shown him kindness, and he’s very loyal to his friends. He must’ve had a good relationship with you, so he wants to avenge your death.” 

“But I’m alive now, aren’t I?” 

“You are. You’ll never be able to return to your old life, though.” 

“I know.” 

_Everyone probably thinks I’m still dead,_ she thought sadly. 

“I miss my family.” 

“I know, Sweetheart, I know.” 

— 

“Susan! What happened?” Leonie asked. 

“Mission.” 

“ _You’re covered in blood._ ” 

“‘S not all mine.” 

“HOW IS THAT BETTER?” 

“We got the guy.” 

“‘Got the guy’?” 

“Killed him, Sweetheart.” 

“Why?” 

“He was a threat to society,” Susan replied. “We’re trying to make the world a better place.” 

“This is unbelievable,” Leonie said angrily before stomping back to her room. 

She was fine stealing. She was fine destroying threats. Killing people? Killing people was going too far. She _could_ leave before they made her a murderer, too, but... 

_It’s not like I have anywhere else to go._

So she stayed. 

— 

**Three years later.**

— 

_I’ve been here for years._

Leonie sighed. There was almost nothing to do except train, play board games, or do puzzles, all of which she’d gotten bored. She had completed more missions than she could count, and had been training almost nonstop. 

Now, she was ready. She’d thrown everything out the window. It didn’t matter who she was or where she was from, there were people to save. Her morals didn’t matter anymore. She’d killed with her own two hands, but she always tried not to let the victim suffer. 

They were threats, but they were still people. 

According to Susan, they only dealt with people or things the vigilantes didn’t know about or couldn’t stop. It’s how they’ve managed to slip past the vigilantes’ wrath, which was bound to fall on them if they were found. Certain vigilantes wouldn’t care. 

A lot of them would. 

— 

“Your mission is to kill this person,” Boss said, sliding a photo over to her. 

“I thought we didn’t kill people the vigilantes know about,” Leonie said. 

“It’s someone they won’t stop.” 

“‘Won’t’? So they _can_ stop him?” 

“Only members of Batman’s crusade can stop him. He’s under their protection.” 

“Right.” 

_Didn’t Sherry say he used to be one of the good guys?_ Leonie wondered. _Well, at least he’d be sentenced to death if he had a fair trial._

She looked at the picture of Red Hood and sighed.


	6. Alex Knight

Alex sighed, a little annoyed that Batman and Joker had changed her favorite rooftop into a battlefield. She’d claimed the rooftop ages ago, and no one bothered to pester her. They were scared of her. 

They thought she was a monster. 

She climbed the fire escape without a sound and glared at Batman and Joker. 

“ _Get off_ ,” Alex growled. 

The Joker laughed and continued fighting, so Batman fought back. Alex huffed and watched. She knew it would be bad to get too involved. They were both insane. She would just wait until one beat up the other, and then she would drive the winner off her territory. 

Unless they left on their own, which was preferable. 

She was only waiting for a few minutes, but it felt like hours. After defeating the Joker, Batman left, probably to return Joker to Arkham, just for Joker to escape next month. Alex sighed. It would be a thousand times easier just to have the Joker killed. 

She walked over to where she left her stuff and checked her bag, as she normally did. She’d memorized everything she kept in it. The moment she opened it, she jolted away from the bag. 

Inside was an unfamiliar object. Red, round cylinders and brightly colored wires were clearly visible even in the Gotham night. A single screen glowed up at her, counting down. 

_5..._

She picked up the machine. 

_4..._

She waited. 

_3..._

She watched. 

_2..._

_Now._

She threw the device up into the air as far as she could, and with a hand over her eyes as if she was saluting—incorrectly, though, as it was her left hand over her forehead—she watched. 

A moment passed and then it exploded, knocking her back with the force of it. She recovered quickly enough to look around in dismay at the series of explosions that followed. 

How many had died? Who had placed the bombs? How many out there were less fortunate than her, to be stupid and human? 

Alex took of her backpack, grimacing at the damage. She would need to get new bags, since both of her current bags were damaged from the explosion. All the stuff _in_ the bags was still there and mostly undamaged, so she wouldn’t have to replace any of it, for which she was grateful. 

She sighed, watching as a silhouettes in the distance jumped across rooftops, frantically trying to save everyone. Batman’s allies had failed. _Batman_ had failed the city. He’d endangered children by chasing after the Joker instead of dealing with the bombs. He should’ve killed the Joker the first time Joker killed thousands, if Batman wanted the job done right. 

In a way, the citizens had failed. They all tried to fend for themselves without even attempting to work on improving the city. Even with the help of members of the upper class, the city remained absolutely horrible. Everyone relied on Batman to take down the bad guys and Bruce Wayne to fix the aftermath. 

Alex huffed. 

_This city is pathetic._

She’d tried—really, _really,_ tried—to make the city better. She’d poured her entire life into it. Every bit of spare time she had was devoted to improving the city. 

She’d only managed to affect a few people. She had gathered together a support group for people who lived on the streets because they were running from bad homes, but less than a dozen people were staying long-term. She worked to provide them with food, clean water, clothes, and shelter, but she hadn’t been able to do much. 

Wayne Enterprises did more, but it didn’t gather the civilians together to create a better place; it gathered the civilians together with promises of good salaries, short office hours and nice employers, the promise of a roof over their heads and an affordable dinner. Not many of the employees learned to think about others. No one was taught to help people in need. 

However, many civilians didn’t _want_ to work for their money. It made Gotham dangerous. Crimes happened left and right, causing the people in Gotham to either become reckless, frightened and paranoid, or insane maniacs. Or all of the above. 

Alex sighed and lay down to rest, trying not to think about it. 

She fell asleep within moments. 

— 

“Hey,” a voice said. 

Alex groaned, rubbing her eyes and stretching. “Wha’?” 

“You okay? There was an explosion over her and-” 

“Sp’ler..?” she asked as her eyes focused. 

“That’d be me,” Spoiler said, sounding a little more happy. 

“What’re y’ doin’?” Alex asked, her words slurred as she was still half asleep. 

“There was an explosion,” Spoiler explained. “I’m checking to make sure everything’s okay over here.” 

Alex paused, letting her brain wake up a little. Spoiler’s explanation took a moment to click. 

“Are you feeling alright?” Spoiler asked. “What’s one plus one?” 

“Eleven,” Alex answered bluntly. 

“...And three times six?” 

“Three-hundred thirty-three thousand three hundred thirty-three,” she answered. She wondered if Spoiler knew she was messing with her. 

“Who’s Bruce Wayne?” 

“An owl.” 

“Umm... what causes explosions?” 

“That explosion was likely caused by the ignition of an explosive gas, causing the gas to burn and heat rapidly, which makes the hot gas expand swiftly and cause a lot of pressure.” 

“...Okay.” 

“There was a bomb in my bag. I tossed it in the air. It exploded.” 

“Tossed it in the air..?” 

“Yep,” Alex answered. “As far as I could. It exploded, and nothing much happened other than the shockwave and the flying debris, which was mostly bits of the bomb, and I think broken windows.” 

“How did that work?” Spoiler wondered. 

Alex shrugged. “I’m surprised it didn’t react at all with the substances in the air.” 

“Just- okay. You’re not hurt, right?” 

“I’m fine.” 

Spoiler’s eyes narrowed in suspicion. Alex wondered why. 

“Are you sure?” Spoiler asked. 

“Well I _am_ a little tired. I was _trying_ to sleep, and then I got interrupted by some prig with a purple costume.” 

“Okay, okay,” she said, lifting her hands a little. “I’ll stop bothering you.” 

“Good luck with everything else.” 

Spoiler smiled. “Thanks.” 

_And she’s gone._

Alex had heard of the Bats’ disappearing tricks, though before then, she’d never experienced it firsthand. She considered herself lucky to at least have ended the conversation, unlike some people who turned to have a last word only to see an empty street. 

Alex flopped back onto her backpack and fell back asleep. 

— 

She woke up with the lazy morning sun, as normal. She took her wallet from her backpack—both things a luxury many people couldn’t afford—and walked over to the fire escape. Climbing down without a noise, she listened for any signs of threats. Gotham daytime was a hundred times less dangerous than the night, but it was still life-threatening to take a walk down the street. 

She had never bothered to buy a car. They were hard to maintain and cost too much. Besides, for someone like her, cars were more dangerous than the streets. 

On her way to the store, Alex stopped two muggings and left a third. She knew she couldn’t take on too many people at once without drawing attention to herself. She knew that getting too involved would mark her an enemy, and people would track her down to kill her. The Bats would stop them, but she didn’t want to owe anyone her life. 

She already owed someone enough. 

Alex arrived at the store from which she’d originally gotten her bags, found the closest things she could, payed, and exited the store as quickly as possible. She rushed back to the rooftop, transferred over her old things to the new bags, picked up her new backpack and rushed to the shelter. She was going to be late for work today, but it didn’t matter. 

“Alex!” Nadia, one of the younger girls who had run away from home, called for her the moment she stepped into the room. 

“Yes?” Alex answered 

“Where were you?” Nadia fretted. “I was so worried!” 

“She hasn’t shut up,” said Ethan, one of the other kids. 

“I’m okay,” Alex said. “I was just busy. There was an incident, and I had to replace a few things.” 

“Hmm...” Nadia said. “Lucky penny?” 

Alex sighed. She took a penny out of her purse and flipped it. Nadia watched intently as it fell. Heads. 

“You’re forgiven,” said Nadia brightly. 

’Lucky penny’ was a game Nadia had made up a while ago. Alex would flip a penny, and if it landed on heads, Nadia would put whatever she was mad about behind them. If if was tails, Nadia would take the penny and act aloof for a few minutes before getting distracted in something. 

Alex made breakfast for everyone there, wolfing down hers before running out the door, calling out a goodbye over her shoulder. She ran all the way to her first part-time job, throwing out a rough explanation about the explosion. Luckily, her boss understood and didn’t get angry. 

After working there for three hours, Alex ran to her next job. Maybe it had been hypocritical of her to judge Wayne Enterprises when she herself worked for the company. 

“Hey,” she greeted the security guards. 

“Hey,” said one. The other waved. 

Alex paused for a moment. “Aren’t you..?” 

“Jason Todd,” the security guard answered. “And you?” 

“Alex,” she said. “Alex Knight. I should be on the employee list.” 

“Alexander Jaydon Knight?” Jason questioned, having glanced at his list. 

She suppressed a groan at hearing her birth name. “That’s me. Just call me Alex.” 

“Okay,” Jason said. “Well, it’s nice to meet you.” 

“Cass,” the girl cut in. 

“It’s nice to meet you both,” said Alex. 

Cass beamed. Something must’ve made her wary of Alex, though, since she threw a glance her way. She seemed guarded. In the corner of her vision, Alex barely saw Cass tap Jason’s hand two times in quick succession. He nodded in response or agreement, Alex couldn’t tell which. She figured it was some kind of communication system they’d made. 

Alex hoped she hadn’t just been marked as suspicious. 

Cass seemed smart—really smart—but she still might’ve mistaken Alex as being up to no good. The only reason people would think that Alex was trouble was that she carried around a pocket knife and pepper spray, but most people had those. If they didn’t, they normally had something else. If they had nothing, they normally didn’t stay alive. 

This was Gotham, and Gotham was about survival. 

_Sure, survival,_ Alex thought bitterly. _Gotham is about usefulness. If you’re not useful to yourself or someone else, you’ll never survive more than a day._

“Tense,” Cass said. “Stressed.” 

“Yeah,” Jason replied. 

Alex glanced back, barely noticing Cass looking at her. 

“Got that right,” Alex muttered under her breath as she walked through the door to the stairs.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Alexander Jaydon Knight is Alex’s birth name. She’s transgender, hence the grimace. She hasn’t changed it. (Note that this is not related to the sentence ‘They thought she was a monster’)


	7. Jason Todd

Jason watched for a moment as Alex walked away. He noticed Cass glancing towards her. Cass turned back to looking at the door. 

Two taps. Extremely dangerous. 

Jason nodded in agreement. Something was off about Alex, like there was a completely different side to him. He seemed ready to flip personalities and massacre everyone in the building. 

“Tense,” Cass murmured. “Stressed.” 

“Yeah.” 

Out of the corner of his eye, Jason saw Alex glanced over towards them. 

“Got that right,” Alex muttered before exiting the room. 

The next person who entered was a familiar face. This meant that he _had_ to triple check. Just- the temptation was too much. 

“Hey, wait!” Jason said, sliding in front of the short, pale-skinned, black-haired boy. “I can’t let you in without knowing your name.” 

“...Jason?” 

“Let me check,” he said. “Last name?” 

“Jason, what the heck?” 

“Uh, sorry,” he joked. “We don’t have a ‘Jason Jason What the Heck’ on the list.” 

“No- that’s not my-” 

“Sorry, but I can’t allow you in this particular building unless you have a reservation.” 

“I don’t need a reservation, Jason. You should-” 

“Nope, you’re not allowed.” 

The person sighed. “My name is Timothy Jackson Drake-Wayne.” 

“Oh, okay,” Jason said. “Just lemme check the list.” 

“Oh for crying out loud,” Tim muttered. 

“Okay,” Jason said. “We do have a Timothy Jackson Drake-Wayne on the list.” 

“Great! Now if you could just _let me in,_ that would be nice.” 

“Hang on,” he said. “I need to see your I.D..” 

“Of for-” Tim cut off as he shifted through his bag. “Here. My driver’s license and detective badge. Happy?” 

“I don’t know. We don’t have a _Detective_ Timothy Jackson Drake-Wayne on the list.” 

“Jason, seriously, I need to get to work.” 

“No can do.” 

“Jason-” 

“What seems to be the problem?” Bruce asked. 

“Oh, hello, Bruce Wayne,” Jason said. “Come right on in.” 

Bruce Wayne cast a confused glance around the room before walking inside, still seeming a little confused. Of course, to everyone else, Brucie Wayne still seemed like his normal self. 

“Jason, let me in,” Tim complained loudly. 

Jason knew what Tim intended to happen, and he knew his fun was about to end, but there was one last thing he could do. 

“Jason,” Bruce said, “let your brother go to work.” 

“Brother? What brother?” 

“That one,” he pointed at Tim. 

“Oh?” Jason said in mock inquisition. Then, with all the seriousness and sincerity he could fake, he asked. “How do you know he’s not replaced?” 

Tim shot him a look of betrayal, knowing what was obviously to come. Bruce grunted, a small hmm that turned Tim’s expression into one of dread and horror. Tim and Jason both knew that Bruce would take forever to stop suspecting that Tim might be replaced. 

“So... _Replacement_ ,” Jason said. “Guess you’re allowed in work now.” 

Tim sighed and walked right past him, violently shoving his badge and driver’s license back into his bag. He made a point of glaring at Jason. Jason grinned his best _have-fun!_ smile. Tim huffed. 

Jason made a point of letting the next person in after simply asking ‘name’ and getting an answer. He barely even glanced at the list. 

Jason knew Tim would somehow get vengeance, but it had been an opportunity. If Jason learned anything from the streets, it was that you never passed up an opportunity. Stealing the Batmobile’s tires? Why not? Tormenting his brother? _Why, the heck, not?_

— 

He had a bad feeling about that person. 

One singular tap. Bad. 

“Hey, sir,” Jason said. “I’m going to have to ask you to wait.” 

“Why?” the man asked. “This is my workplace!” 

“Sir, I-” 

One moment, he was talking. Two swift motions and the man had pulled out a gun and been disarmed by Cass. Another motion and Jason had handcuffed the man. 

“You can’t arrest me! You’re just a security guard, not a cop!” 

“Can _I_ arrest you?” 

Jason looked between Tim and the man. The man was at least six feet tall, which made him tower over Tim. 

“You’re just a teenager,” the man said. 

“Actually,” Tim said. “I’m twenty-two.” 

The man paused. Jason could only guess what was going through his mind. 

“Where’s your badge?” 

Tim sighed and took out his detective badge. “Happy?” 

“You can’t be a detective! That has to be fake!” 

“It isn’t, and I’ll take you into custody to prove it.” 

Jason watched as Tim escorted the struggling man out of the room. The man was yelling about Tim being a fake cop. Jason failed to suppress a sigh when no one even payed the man and Tim a passing glance. 

Gotham was Gotham, and no one would bother pay attention to something that didn’t involve them. 

— 

“You seem exhausted,” Jason remarked. “Haven’t I seen you leave and enter several times today?” 

“Uh... yeah,” he replied. 

“Alex, was it?” 

He seemed a little cheerier at that. “Yeah.” 

“Were’ve you been going?” 

“Well, sometimes I run errands for other workers. Such as getting coffee,” he explained. “They give me the money for it and a little extra.” 

“Hey, if you need money I’ve got plenty of it,” Jason said. “Always feel free to ask for help.” 

“I’m fine as it is,” Alex said. “You don’t need to worry about me.” 

“If you insist. I do advise getting some rest, though.” 

“I will.” 

Alex walked out the door, glancing around like a usual skittish Gothamite before starting to walk home. 

“Tired. Stressed,” Cass said, sympathy filling her tone as she tried to find the right word. “ _Tim._ ” 

“Yeah,” Jason said. “A lot like Tim.” 

_Hopefully he’s not an orphan. Bruce would leap to adopt him._

— 

Jason flopped. 

“Hello, bed.” 

He glanced at the time on his phone. 4:53. 

_Eh. I guess it’s enough time for a nap._

He tried to fall asleep, but he couldn’t. An eerie feeling had settled over him, like he was being watched. He paused and then slid off the bed, reaching for his gun. 

_Silence._

He glanced around the room again, a gun in his right hand, his left hand over where he kept his knife. 

_Nothing,_ he thought. _Maybe I’m just overthinking things. Still..._

He took out his phone, gun still in hand. It rang for only a moment. 

“Jaylad?” 

“Hey, B,” Jason said. 

“Do you need something?” 

“Could I come over?” 

Bruce grunted. 

“‘Kay. Thanks. Bye.” 

Bruce grunted. 

Jason stood up, slipping on his leather jacket and putting his costume in a backpack. He walked out the door with a knife in his hand, pausing every few seconds, glancing around, and making sure all was quiet. 

— 

“Well you look wonderful,” Jason greeted. 

Tim didn’t respond. 

“Something wrong?” Jason asked casually. 

Tim face-planted onto the table. Jason sat down next to him. 

“Hey, Tim, what’s wrong?” his voice softened into one of concern, the one he used to comfort children. 

“Sixty-eight,” Tim said. “Forty-eight. Seventy-six. Ninety-five.” 

“What?” 

Tim looked up, tears brimming his eyes. “A hundred and sixteen, Jason.” 

“Woah, woah woah,” Jason said. “Calm down.” 

Tim sniffed. 

“Now what do you mean by hundred ‘n’ sixteen?” 

“The numbers came out,” Tim said. “A hundred and sixteen people _died,_ Jason.” 

“Wha-” 

“I should’ve been better,” Tim said. 

“It’s not your fault, Tim,” Jason comforted. 

“A-a hundred and s-seventy one injured, Jason,” Tim’s voice was shaky. He seemed ready to cry. 

“They’ll be okay,” Jason said, assuming Tim had switched to injuries. “Do you need a hug?” 

“N-” Tim cut off, then nodded. Jason barely had a moment before Tim had rushed into the hug. He’d started crying. 

“It’s okay, Tim,” he said. “It’s gonna be okay.” 

“I-it doesn’t feel like it.” 

“Everything’s gonna get better.” 

“You don’t get it, Jason,” Tim said, obviously forcing his voice to be steady. “If I could’ve solved those riddles quicker, moved more quickly, diffused more bombs-” 

“It’s not your fault,” Jason said. “Riddler set up those bombs. Joker set off the laughing gas.” 

“But-” 

“Did you kill any of those people? Did you hurt them with your own two hands? Did you invent laughing gas, or set up those traps? ‘Cause I think not.” 

Tim stopped protesting, instead burying himself deeper into Jason. He seemed like he was shrinking, if it was humanly possible. 

“Is he okay?” 

Jason looked up at the girl who had just entered the room. “Hey, Destiny.” 

“What’s wrong with Tim?” 

“Blaming himself for the deaths Joker and Riddler caused last night.” 

“Right. How is that his fault?” 

Jason shrugged. “Guess he figured he could’ve prevented it somehow.” 

Tim had backed out of the hug and was now wiping the tears away. 

“Oh,” Destiny said. “He didn’t kill the people, though. That was Riddler and Joker.” 

“Exactly,” Jason replied. 

“We need to find Riddler,” Tim said. 

“I’d leave that up to Batman. I’m not sure a single detective and a lunatic with guns could hunt down Riddler.” 

Tim paused, confusion shown clearly. “Wha-” 

“Don’t you think, Destiny?” Jason emphasized the name slightly. Tim seemed to get it. 

Destiny didn’t know. 

“If the entire police force can’t track down Riddler, I doubt it.” 

“See?” 

Tim nodded. 

Jason wondered if Destiny could tell exactly what he meant. It was harder to get ideas across in the subtext, but they managed. 

“I’m going to my room,” Tim said. 

“Want me to come with?” Jason offered. 

“N-,” Tim paused. “Fine.” 

They went upstairs to Tim’s room, leaving Destiny downstairs, confused. Jason followed, and together, they started trying to find where the Riddler might be. 

— 

“You ready?” Tim asked. 

Jason nodded. “¿Y tú?” 

“Why?” 

“Let’s go.” Jason grinned. 

“Okay.” 

Red Robin and Red Hood were working together that night. Jason was always happy to spend time with Tim, and patrol was a time they could spend together. 

“Bet I can catch the most crimes,” Jason said. 

“Oh it is _on._ ” 

They’d been patrolling for a while when they came to a rooftop on which someone seemed to be waiting for them. They’d been just about the leap the gap when Jason had the feeling of being watched return. The person, without warning, leaped at them. Jason side-stepped, only to watch in horror as the person barreled into Tim, and the both of them fell over the edge. 

“Sh*t,” Jason cursed. 

_I’m too used to patrolling alone._

“Red!” he called, glancing around the rooftop before looking over the edge. 

Red Robin was gone.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> My proofreader was confused about the numbers Tim said, so I’m posting an explanation here. They refer to the different attacks. Sixty-eight and forty-eight refer to the deaths from Joker and Riddler respectively, and seventy-six and ninety-five are the injuries. Joker killed sixty-eight and injured seventy-six, and Riddler killed forty-eight and injured ninety-five.
> 
> 68+48=116, and 76+95=171  
> Thus, there were a hundred and sixteen dead and a hundred and seventy-one injured.


	8. Timothy Drake

Tim opened his eyes. Where was he? 

“Hey,” someone said. 

“Who are you?” 

“I don’t know if I’m allowed to say.” 

The girl had curly shoulder-length hair, and she was about average height. There was nothing unique about her appearance and her clothes were ordinary. She paced back and forth impatiently, glancing around the room frequently. 

“O?” Jason’s voice sounded in the comms. “Red’s gone.” 

“On it.” Barbara’s reply was followed by a small pause. “He’s in the Narrows.” 

“Yay,” Jason said. “How’d he get there so quickly?” 

“Magic?” Barbara guessed. “Metahuman?” 

Jason sighed. “Great. Just great.” 

“Fine,” Tim whispered. 

“Red?” 

“Yeah. Girl—curly hair—average height. Only one?” 

“That doesn’t fit the description of who pushed you off the roof,” Jason said. “Unless she curled her hair randomly.” 

“Two?” 

“Yeah, probably.” 

“Who ya talking to?” the girl asked. 

“Myself,” Tim answered, hoping the girl would believe him. 

“I talk to myself too sometimes,” the girl said casually. “There’s not much to do, and my friends are always so occupied, so I get lonely.” 

“L,” someone said. “Quit being so friendly with him, we might have to kill him later. ‘Sides, he’s probably communicating with one of his friends.” 

“But he says he’s not.” 

“But he probably is.” 

It was too late for them to stop him and his friends. They’d already won this battle. His trackers should still be broadcasting perfectly. Unless that’s what they were counting on- 

_Crash!_

“Get the _f*ck_ away from him!” 

Jason had kicked down the door, throwing it inwards by a few inches. His body language showed displeasure, and his guns were held firmly, one in each hand. 

“Aw, your big brother came to help you! Isn’t that sweet?” 

“L, focus!” the woman snapped 

“I can’t focus, I’m ADHD!” 

“Hyper-focus, then!” 

L sighed and ducked behind Tim to dodge a series of bullets. 

“Your brother seems insane,” she commented. 

“You seem insane,” Tim retorted. 

“Maybe a little.” 

“Why are you doing this?” 

“Uh... ‘cause it’s my unofficial job I’m not actually getting paid for?” 

“I can pay you to stop?” 

“Are you bribing me?” 

“Is it working?” 

“Nope!” 

L had taken out a gun. 

“L-” Tim was cut off by a gunshot. Luckily, Jason was skilled enough to dodge. It barely skimmed his arm. 

“Sherry was always the better shot,” L muttered. 

“Sherry?” Tim asked. 

“Quit talking about her and just focus!” the other person snapped. 

L sighed and leaped out from behind Tim, moving over to Jason in an instant and yanking his wrist up, pointing his gun at the ceiling when it would’ve hit her partner. Jason quickly kicked her away, only for her to roll and hop back up, leaping back over like she was never kicked down in the first place. 

Things continued like this for a bit; Jason would knock one of his opponents down, only for the other to attack him while the one got back up like nothing happened. Jason stopped using his guns, opting to take out his knife instead. The guns were likely running out of bullets, and they didn’t seem to be working. 

Jason wasn’t winning, but he wasn’t losing, either. 

Someone was standing in the doorway. It took Tim a moment too long to register, and a moment too long to identify that the person wasn’t with Jason. 

“J-” 

Jason had been quicker, though, as he’d already dodged the man’s attack. He obviously knew he wasn’t going to win unless the man was less coordinated with the others, which was proved wrong in an instant. L was still the weakest link, and she seemed like she’d trained with them for a while. A year, maybe? 

“Sh*t,” Jason cursed, barely failing to dodge an attack as the girl who wasn’t L attacked with her knife. 

“What took you so long?” she asked, sounding annoyed. 

“Some cop got in my way,” the man answered, swinging his katana without trouble. 

“Some cop?” L asked. 

Jason seemed a little annoyed that they were having a friendly conversation and he _still_ wasn’t winning. 

“Yeah,” the man answered. “Blonde hair, fair skin. She seemed like she was looking for something at first, and then she noticed me. Things went downhill.” 

“Did you see her eye color?” L had basically frozen. 

“If you can’t talk and fight, just fight!” the woman snapped. 

“Sorry.” 

“Blue,” the man said. “Couldn’t miss them if I tried. They were the most vivid blue I’ve ever seen an eye be.” 

“I need to find her,” L said, her voice surprisingly urgent. 

“What for?” 

“I just- What did you do with her?” 

“I knocked her out. She might have a concussion.” 

“Okay.” 

“We need to finish up before we do anything extra,” the woman said. 

L sighed and knocked Jason out surprisingly easily. She was more of a threat than Tim had realized. Luckily, Barbara would know, and she would be able to do something. She would send someone to help them. 

If she even cared. 

_No, Tim,_ he thought. _Don’t go down that rabbit hole._

His depression could wait for later. He shoved it away, focusing on the situation at hand. Jason was unconscious, Tim was stuck, and he didn’t know it anyone else was coming to save them. He had to find a way out... 

“ _Now_ can you show me where that cop is?” 

“No,” the woman said. “We haven’t finished.” 

L groaned in frustration. “I hate this.” 

“L.” 

L hesitated, then pointed her gun at Hood. 

Tim let out a yelp of protest as a gunshot sounded, but it wasn’t from the gun L had aimed. Instead, it had whizzed right past L’s eyes. 

“ _Put. Your weapons. Down, _” a cop who had entered the building instructed, “and put your hands in the air.”__

__The man opened his mouth, but before he could speak, the sound of a gun clattering to the floor cut him off._ _

__“Sherry,” L said. She’d stopping moving and was just staring at the cop._ _

__Tim looked towards the cop, almost immediately recognizing her as the one who had saved Hood and knew their identities: Sherry Holland._ _

___How is she involved in this?_ he wondered. It seemed like she was just doing her job, but L acted like she knew Sherry. _ _

__The man attacked Sherry, missing by only a few inches. The woman tried to attack Sherry, only to be knocked aside by a crazy mess of flipping and weird contortions. Relief filled Tim at the sight of the blue and black blur._ _

__It only took a moment before Sherry had handcuffed the woman while Richard fought the man. L still was frozen. She didn’t even try to avoid Sherry handcuffing her._ _

__A sword clattered to the ground as Nightwing disarmed his opponent, zapping the man into unconsciousness a moment later with his escrima sticks._ _

__“You okay, Red?” Nightwing asked._ _

__“Yeah,” Tim answered absentmindedly. All his attention was focused on the new mystery he’d uncovered._ _

__Why were those people after Hood? Who were they? How was Sherry involved? They would’ve caught it if she were an active participant in this, right?_ _

__“Are you okay?” Tim said._ _

__“Yep!” Nightwing started untying Tim, leaving Sherry to deal with the last person._ _

__Tim’s attention snapped to Jason when he stirred._ _

__“Jason?”_ _

__“What the f*ck happened?”_ _

__“You got knocked out.”_ _

__“So that’s why my head hurts. What happened to the people?”_ _

__“They’re unconscious. Sherry’s dealing with them.”_ _

__“Sherry..?”_ _

__“That person from a few days back who knew our identities?”_ _

__“What’s she doing here?”_ _

__“She’s a police officer, Hood.”_ _

__“...Right. What do we know about the people?”_ _

__“I’m not sure about much. One of them went by ‘L’. We’ll learn more once he police report is filed.”_ _

__Hood nodded. “Let’s just head back for now. It’s been a long night.”_ _

__Tim smiled sleepily. “That sounds good.”_ _

__“I’ll meet you there after I finish my patrol,” Nightwing said._ _

__“So you’re staying in Gotham?” Hood asked._ _

__“Not for long,” Nightwing answered._ _

__Tim and Hood both nodded._ _

__“Well, let’s get going,” Hood said._ _

__Tim nodded firmly, and then they were on their way._ _

__—_ _

__“Oh, for the love of-” Tim groaned exasperatedly. “I’m not replaced, Bruce.”_ _

__Bruce grunted, obviously not believing him. They were in the kitchen, just after breakfast. Damian, Destiny, and Richard had already left. Cass wasn’t at the manor; she’d had a sleepover with Steph, taking a break from he chaos of six-ish siblings._ _

__“Come _on,_ Bruce,” Tim said. “You’ve been hounding me for _two days._ The _only time_ I could’ve been replaced under your crazily-obsessed watch was when I was kidnapped, which lasted _fifteen minutes_ until Jason showed up!” _ _

__Bruce grunted again._ _

__“I mean, sure,” Tim said. “That person must’ve been a meta, or magical, or she had cool tech, but still-_ _

__Tim cut off and sighed._ _

__“Face it, Replacement,” Jason said, the twinkle his eyes the only thing betraying his amusement. “You’re stuck with it.”_ _

__“This is all _your_ fault.” _ _

__Jason grinned. “I know.”_ _

__“Screw you.”_ _

__“Wow, not even cursing?”_ _

__“We’re in the manor.”_ _

__“...Riiight,” Jason said. “Since when did you care about the swear jar? That’s unusual for you, Tim.”_ _

__“Shut up!” Tim yelped as Bruce raised an eyebrow. “You’re just making it worse.”_ _

__“That’s the poi- _ow! Tiiim..!_ ” _ _

__“You deserved that.”_ _

__“Tim,” Bruce intervened, “no punching your brother in the gut.”_ _

__“What about the face?”_ _

__“ _No._ ” _ _

__“But you’ve punched him in the face before!”_ _

__Bruce sighed, pinching the bridge of his nose._ _

__Tim looked at his defeated family members and decided he’d done enough social interaction for the day. He ran upstairs, closing his room door and locking it before opening his computer._ _

__Time to work._ _

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Hey, readers! I’d like to inform you all that I’m not going to be updating this work again until Monday, October 5th.


	9. Calvin Dawson

Calvin whipped around the corner, trying to avoid the people chasing him. He wasn’t familiar with this part of Gotham, so he had no way of escaping. No shortcuts, no nothing. 

He turned another corner, getting out of the crowded street, only to end up in an alleyway, with the only exit blocked by the people. 

“H-hi,” he stammered. “What do you want..?” 

“Give our stuff back!” one of the people said, looming over him intimidatingly. 

“No! This is my stuff. I had it first! You’re the ones who took it from me!” 

“If you don’t hand it over nicely,” another person said, cracking his knuckles, “we’ll have to take it by force.” 

Calvin backed further towards the wall, trying to avoid them. There were too many—five if he counted correctly—for him to fight off on his own. 

One of the people approached, brandishing a knife threateningly. Another walked over to Calvin and grabbed him by the arm. Calvin tried to free his arm from the person’s grasp, but only hurt himself trying. He let out a squeak as the person yanked him forward, obviously ready to break his arm. Calvin’s vision blurred and blackened, but he was still conscious. 

There was a noise of a person landing behind the people. Calvin couldn’t tell where the person came from or what the person wanted. All Calvin knew was that he needed to leave. Fast. 

“If I were you,” the person said, his voice coming in a weird burst of static, “I’d step away from the kid.” 

Calvin noticed the people turn from threatening to afraid. The one holding him pulled him closer. 

“Make one move and the kid gets it!” he said. 

“Oh,” the weird sound of the person’s voice only made him sound angrier. “That was a bad move.” 

The was a single gunshot and the person crumpled to the ground. 

_Is he dead?_ Calvin thought with shock and relief. Then he felt guilty for feeling relieved at the idea of someone dying. 

“Anyone else want a bullet?” the person asked. Calvin got a better look at the person, only noticing the red helmet and bat-symbol. 

The people made a break for it. The red helmet person let them, turning his attention to Calvin. 

“You okay?” 

“Y-yeah,” Calvin answered. “Are you Batman? ‘Cause you don’t really look like what all the rumors say, and I didn’t think Batman used guns, and-” 

“I’m not Batman,” the person answered. “I’m the Red Hood.” 

Calvin paused in confusion. “But... you’re wearing a helmet.” 

“I’m not the idiot who made the name,” Red Hood replied. “Take it up with Joker and his friends from way back when.” 

“You can always redesign your outfit.” 

“True. Maybe I’ll steal Arsenal’s hoodie.” 

“Stealing is bad. You shouldn’t steal.” 

Red Hood snorted, though the laugh was the creepiest Calvin had ever heard. “It’s okay. Arsenal’s my best friend.” 

“...And that makes it okay..?” 

Red Hood shrugged. “It happens a lot. I steal from him, he steals from me. It’s a thing.” 

“Okay..?” 

“Well, take care, okay?” he said. “I’m gonna go find more jerks to beat up.” 

“...Bye?” 

Red Hood had already gone. Calvin stood for a moment in confusion, but he quickly recovered and went on his way. He couldn’t stay out longer than need be. 

He cradled the supplies in his arms as he rushed back to his home: the Shelter, as they’d called it. The gray building was run-down and the windows were cracked, but it was surprisingly clean for such an old building, thanks to the efforts of the workers. He pushed open the door, locking it behind him. 

“Alex?” Calvin called. 

His voice echoed across the one-room floor. After a quick glance around the room, he assumed Alex wasn’t there yet. 

“Calvin!” someone else called. “You’re back!” 

Calvin looked at the staircase. “Hey.” 

The person, Skyler, was one of the younger kids, being more of a toddler than a child. She was only there because of her older brother, Lee, who’d taken both her and her sister, Hailey, away from their abusive parents. 

Calvin felt really bad for them. His parents hadn’t been abusive; they’d just died. He only came to the shelter because he didn’t want to live on the streets anymore. 

“What are you holding?” Skyler asked. 

“Oh, these are just some supplies for fixing up this place.” 

“The place isn’t broken.” 

Calvin laughed. “It’s going to be if we don’t do anything.” 

“Lee says you patched it up last year.” 

“We did, but it’s not gonna last forever.” 

“Why not?” 

“Well, when you fix something, it’s not broken anymore, but it’s never the same. It’s easier to break it apart again. We’re gonna have to fix this place every year, unless we get the right materials, which we can’t afford right now.” 

“Why can’t we?” 

“We don’t have the money to do it.” 

Skyler scowled. “Why does money have to be used for everything?” 

“Sky!” Lee’s voice carried across the room. “Don’t run off like that!” 

She huffed. “I can take care of myself!” 

“ _You’re four years old._ ” 

“Don’t matter.” 

“Sky.” 

“Hey, Lee?” Calvin interrupted their argument before it could escalate. They were both stubborn individuals, which caused their arguments to get really heated. 

“Oh, hey. Didn’t see you there.” 

_That’s normal._

“Have you seen Alex today?” 

“No.” 

“Tell me when you do, okay?” 

“‘Kay. Do you know what’s for breakfast?” 

“Alex didn’t mention anything yesterday.” 

Lee nodded, and they stood in silence for a while. Calvin started sorting through the materials he’d gotten, and Lee and Sky took a seat at the kitchen table. They were soon joined by many others as the children woke up, one by one. 

Once Calvin finished sorting through the bag, he took his own seat and waited. 

“She’s late,” Ada commented in her soft and calm voice. Her three ‘settings’, as the kids called them, were always crystal clear: calm, stressed, and angry. 

“She’s late half the time,” Lee said. “There’s nothing to worry about.” 

Ada nodded unsurely. 

“Nothing happened to her, okay? You know she can take care of herself.” 

“Yeah. She’s only four minutes late anyway.” 

Just as Ada finished her sentence, the door swung open, revealing an out-of-breath Alex. 

“Hey,” she said. “Sorry I’m late. Ran into some trouble. Thanks for setting the table; I’ll get working on breakfast. Ada, can you set up another spot? Thanks.” 

Ada got up and did what was asked while the others exchanged confused glances. 

“There’s a new friend!” Nadia announced excitedly. Everyone’s eyes snapped to the door. 

“Hello,” the girl at the door greeted. She was about Lee’s height, with long, straight black hair and an outfit a few sizes too small. 

“What’s your name?” Nadia asked. “Ooh, and favorite color? Do you like drawing? I love drawing! I like stories, but reading is hard. Do you like reading? Do you _know_ how to read? I don’t know much, but I know some. What’s your favorite thing to do? I like playing. Playing is fun! I-” 

“Nadia,” Orlando interrupted. “Let her answer.” 

“My name is Irene,” the girl said. “My favorite color is dark blue. I don’t care much for drawing or reading, and I don’t really have a favorite thing to do.” 

“Boring,” Nadia muttered. 

“Nadia!” Orlando snapped. 

“Why are you here?” Ethan asked. 

“I just ran into Alex on the streets, and she invited me to join.” 

“Why can’t you be at your original house?” Skyler asked. 

“I ran away,” Irene said bluntly. 

“Why?” 

“That’s personal.” 

“Oh. We ran away because our dad’s an a**hole.” 

“Sky!” Lee scolded. 

“Alex?” Calvin said, ignoring the rest of their conversation. “I got the materials for fixing the walls.” 

“Oh! Thanks.” Alex said. “I’ll get started on that later.” 

“Okay. If there’s any way I can help, tell me.” 

“I will.” 

Breakfast passed, and Alex was getting ready to leave when Calvin realized she might know about the strange man from earlier. 

“Do you know of anyone called the Red Hood?” 

Alex froze. “Where did you hear that name?” 

“Well,” Calvin said. “I ran into some trouble earlier, and he saved me. I was wondering if-” 

“Stay away from him. He’s bad news.” Alex slung her backpack on with more force than necessary. 

“Are you sure? He seemed pretty nice,” Calvin said. “Just really scary and intimidating, too.” 

“He’s one of the worse ones, okay?” 

“...If you say so.” 

Alex turned and walked out the door without another word. Calvin sighed. Alex rarely gave unbiased information. 

“I’ve met the Red Hood.” 

Calvin jumped and turned around, relaxing when he realized it was just Irene. She was almost standing next to him, and Calvin fought to hide his embarrassment about not noticing her. 

“How did you meet him?” he asked. 

“I don’t really remember,” Irene said. “I saw him a lot.” 

“What’s _your_ opinion of him?” 

“He’s very kind to the less fortunate, especially children. He draws the line at anything other than larceny, though. I’ve seen him scolding kids for beating up a dog—I’m fairly certain he kept the dog—and I’ve seen him fighting the idiots who try to commit assault.” 

“So... He’s not bad, but maybe a little dangerous.” 

“He’s really dangerous. You’ll see.” 

“Alex said not to interact with him.” 

“He’ll reach us. He’ll try to help. There’s nothing we can do about that.” 

Calvin frowned uncertainly. Alex probably wouldn’t like Hood getting involved in their lives. She didn’t seem to like him. 

_She doesn’t like many people,_ Calvin thought sourly. 

— 

“This is the second new person today,” Ada remarked calmly. She, Ethan, Lee, and Calvin had been playing monopoly. 

Ethan was winning. 

The little genius brat. 

“I know,” Lee said. 

“‘Sup everyone!” the newcomer greeted, his voice quiet for such an enthusiastic greeting. “I’m Jay, and I’ll be helping around here from now on.” 

“ _Wow_ ,” Nadia said, looking up at him. “You’re too tall!” 

“I’m six feet tall,” Jay said, “so... I guess I’m taller than average?” 

“Yep. Too tall.” 

“Do we even have room for him?” Ada asked. 

“I’m not staying here,” Jay said. “Just volunteering to help. We’ve got to stick together, y’know?” 

“I’m going to get started on dinner,” Alex announced. “You all can spend some time bonding with Irene an Jay. I know it’s weird to have to more people show up over the span of one day, but don’t overwhelm them, okay?” 

There was a series of ‘okay’s, ‘yep’s and ‘got it’s. One kid—Emery— said ‘aye aye, cap’n’. 

Jay immediately befriended all the littler kids. Nadia, Hailey, Skyler, and Celeste seemed attached to him already. The other kids were untrusting, but begrudgingly accepting of the newcomer. 

Calvin looked around at the building. 

It needed work. 

When he looked at the people, though, he knew it was home.


	10. Sherry Holland (II)

Sherry had shifted around all the clues about Leonie’s death, making room for her sudden resurrection. 

Leonie had told a story about a strange organization where they trained, completed missions, and researched potential threats. She’d complained about how they only had puzzles and board games, how the missions were sometimes boring, and how the training was stressful. 

She’d said her mission was to kill the Red Hood. 

Now, the only lead they had for a leader behind this organization, was that Leonie and the leader were in the same grade. At the same school. The same _middle_ school. 

That made every peer Sherry remembered a suspect. A boy, according to Leonie. Someone who died at a young age. 

Sherry sighed. 

It was a lot to take in, and it was probably good that she was already used to chaos. Their world was crazy. She’d believed in the idea of revival existing before she got any solid proof. The first evidence, albeit unstable, was her guess at Hood’s identity. 

That had been a _guess_. 

This was real, solid, proof. 

“You okay?” Amelia’s voice sounded from outside her door. “You’ve been in there all weekend. Mom’s making your favorite for dinner, if you actually plan on joining us.” 

“I’ll be done in a moment.” 

Amelia sighed loudly and started making a fuss in the hall. Sherry had learned to tune it out, since Amelia had done this for years. Sometimes it lasted long enough to actually make her come out of her room. This time it didn’t. Amelia left pretty quickly, probably because dinner was ready. 

Sherry continued reorganizing, fixing everything about Leonie’s death case before getting to the report she was supposed to be writing. 

“Sherry,” her mother said from outside the door. “You have to eat something. I am _not_ dealing with you passing out again!” 

Sherry sighed. “I’m coming.” 

“Good.” 

Sherry got up, not bothering to put away anything. She’d get right back to it after dinner. 

Amelia was hyper as ever, bothering her about the simplest of things and pestering Sherry about why she’d been in her room all weekend. 

“So,” Amelia said, “what’ve you been working on so intently that you’ve only joined us for dinner?” 

Sherry glared and shoved a forkful of food into her mouth. 

“Not going to talk, eh? You’ll be spilling the beans eventually, whether you like it or not.” 

“If you say so.” 

“Just stopping talking around the hot porridge and tell me what’s bothering you!” 

Amelia seemed to be flipping moods every few seconds, but underneath it all, Sherry knew she was just concerned, and maybe a little annoyed. 

“I’m fine,” Sherry snapped. “Nothing’s bothering me except you.” 

“ _Sure_.” 

Sherry rolled her eyes and washed her dishes, putting them away before walking back upstairs. 

Leonie’s death case had been ‘solved’ ages ago. According to the final reports, she’d committed suicide. A single bullet to the head. 

Sherry had never believed it. 

Leonie hadn’t been depressed. She’d been happy, even, and neurotypical, too, despite how one might call her crazy. She hadn’t had anything to worry about, whether it was food, clean water, money, a social life... 

She’d had everything. 

She didn’t even know how to use a gun. 

No, Leonie had been murdered, and she was back and ready to confirm it, except... 

She was alive. 

How? 

It didn’t make any sense. 

Then again, there had always been a nagging feeling in the back of Sherry’s mind, telling her Leonie was alive. 

She’d ignored it, despite knowing resurrection was completely possible. 

Despite knowing about Jason Todd’s resurrection. 

Sherry looked at her paperwork and sighed. She’d have to finish it all tonight. 

_Time to get to work._

— 

“Well you look wonderful.” 

“Same to you,” Sherry retorted. “You look like you got into a car accident.” 

“No, that was yesterday.” 

“Wha-” 

“Detective Drake!” someone called. 

“Gotta go,” Detective Drake said. “See you around!” 

“Bye..?” 

Sherry watched him for a moment before starting her work day. 

— 

“Hey, Officer Holland,” Detective Drake said. “I got you coffee.” 

“...Thanks?” Sherry took the coffee, raising an eyebrow at him. 

“I know things have been pretty tense ever since... that incident,” Sherry couldn’t tell if Detective Drake was talking about the beginning with Red Hood or their solution of kidnapping her. “I’d still like to be friends, though.” 

“...So you’re bribing me into cooperation.” 

Detective Drake grinned. “Is it working?” 

“I’ll cooperate, but on one condition.” 

“Yeah?” 

“We’re work friends. I don’t want to be involved with the Wayne family at all, understood?” 

“Right. I’ll tell the others to back off once they figure out,” Detective Drake promised, “which will be soon, knowing them.” 

Sherry nodded. 

“Detective Wayne!” someone called from another room. 

“It’s DRAKE,” Detective Drake corrected. “I have to go. Bye.” 

“Bye.” 

— 

“What do you want now?” Sherry snapped. 

From the way Detective Drake shrank, she realized she probably should’ve used a nicer tone. 

She needed more sleep. 

“I was just wondering if you have any updates on the case with those three people form that night.” 

“As far as I know, no one’s found them yet.” 

“Found?” Detective Drake asked. “I thought you turned them in.” 

“You don’t know? They escaped yesterday. The one’s a meta with _teleportation,_ do you think an ordinary jail can hold them?” 

“...Right.” 

“How did that slip past you?” 

“I was in a car accident yesterday, remember?” 

“You did mention that,” Sherry said. “I thought you were joking. No sane person would come into work the day after a car accident.” 

“But I’m not sane.” 

“Right. How’d you manage to convince everyone to let you come in to work?” 

“...Only Jason knows about it. And you, I guess.” 

“You’re not hurt, are you?” 

“Broken arm.” 

“Then you shouldn’t be in work.” 

Tim shrugged. “It’s just a broken arm.” 

“Detective Dr-” 

“Gotta go,” he interrupted, turning and rushing towards the door. “Bye!” 

“You should get that treated.” 

There was no response, but Sherry guessed he knew what she had said anyway. 

— 

The day was relatively uneventful, especially for Gotham. A murder, five robberies, too many traffic violations, and three accounts of arson- 

_This city needs help._

Sherry sighed. 

I’m _the one who has to help it._

“Sherry!” Amelia greeted enthusiastically, tackling her in a hug. 

“Hey.” 

“How much sleep have you gotten?” 

“Why would I even monitor that?” Sherry asked. “It’s just sleep. There’s no need to regulate it.” 

“I’ll take that as not enough. You’re not working on any paperwork until you get rest.” 

“Okay.” 

Amelia raised an eyebrow. “You’re not going to fight me on this?” 

“Well, I’m already done with everything, so no. No I’m not.” 

“Hm... No working at all.” 

“No can do.” 

“ _Sherry_ ,” Amelia whined. 

“I have work.” 

“Don’t make me get Mom.” 

Sherry groaned, but complied. Amelia was just annoying. 

Their mother was scary. 

Sherry’s family had always been very close. They looked after each other, and they always had. 

Her father had been who taught her how to use a gun. He’d encouraged her to follow her dreams of becoming a police officer. 

Her mother had always been supportive. She’d taught Sherry to think for herself and make her own decisions. She was a great mother, always teaching them how to cook or clean or do anything a ‘normal’ woman would do. 

Amelia... was Amelia. She was crazy and all over the place, and sure, they fought sometimes. Sherry and Amelia were so drastically different, but they were siblings. Not cold, unfeeling siblings like some were, but sisters who loved and cared for each other. 

Even when Amelia was so _d*mn_ annoying. 

Sherry let herself get dragged into playing games with her younger sister, and despite all the work she knew she had to do, she enjoyed it. 

Well, other than the constant state of anxiety, but that was, well, constant.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> By ‘normal woman’ it means pretty much the stereotypical gender-role conforming woman. Sherry’s mother fits this role.
> 
> Just a note: There is nothing wrong with fitting in with gender roles. Toxic feminists will try to tell you otherwise. You live your own life the way you want. They can’t tell you what to do.


	11. Elizabeth Clarke

**Notes for the Chapter:**

>  **WARNING:** This chapter contains themes of abuse which may be disturbing for some readers. Viewer discretion is encouraged.

Eliza snapped her pencil accidentally. 

“Math,” she groaned, waving away Jasmine. “You wouldn’t be any help.” 

“Hey!” 

“What? Math is your worst subject!” 

“Well, _you’re_ gonna have to get better at it if you want to get into medical school!” 

“You’re gonna have to get better if you want to pass _middle school_!” 

“Hey!” 

“Math is important. It’s involved in _everything._ If I don’t start getting better at it, I might not even make it!” 

“Come _on_ , Eliza,” Jasmine said. “You’ve got a high B in the class.” 

“But still-!” 

“No ‘but’s!” 

“I’m a _failure_ ,” Eliza groaned, flopping her face down onto the table. She heard a sharp _snap_ and realized she’d broken her nose and the desk. 

Great. 

“I’ll never make it into medical school at this rate.” 

“That’s nonsense,” Jasmine said. “You’re too much of a nerd to do anything _but_ get into whatever weird study you want.” 

“I am not a nerd!” 

“Maybe I can help you with your math,” a tiny voice spoke. 

Eliza jumped, knocking her chair over in the process, but luckily, she hadn’t flown through the ceiling. 

This time. 

“Don’t scare me like that,” Eliza yelped. 

Her youngest sibling and only brother grinned. “What’s this about math?” 

“Oh, I’m just having a little bit of trouble with these absolute value inequalities. I already have the answers, but I can’t figure out how to get to them.” 

“Which ones are you struggling with?” Adam asked, paused, then reworded it. “ _With_ which ones are you struggling?” 

“Tiny genius,” Jasmine muttered, ruffling Adam’s hair. Adam retaliated by flipping her onto the floor. 

“I’m struggling with numbers two, three, four, six, eight, and twelve...” 

“Okay. I’ll just... read them.” 

Eliza paused, shooting him a confused look. 

“I’ll just _see _what you did wrong now.”__

__“Oh, shoot. Sorry. I forgot you were blind.”_ _

__“Saying ‘I forgot you _were_ blind’ implies I’m no longer blind,” Adam said. “Now can you read number 2 to me?” _ _

__“Ah, right. Uh... two absolute value x plus three minus one is less than one. I added one to both sides and divided by two, leaving just the absolute value and the one left over. I split it, subtracted three from both sides on both, and ended up with x is less than two and greater than- Wait, I forgot to reverse the inequality sign!”_ _

__“Check to see if you made the same mistake on others. Also, make sure you’ve multiplied all the values in the side without the absolute value by negative one.”_ _

__“Right, right.”_ _

__“Maybe you should get a tutor,” Adam suggested._ _

__“Yeah, maybe. I’ll ask Dad if that’s okay.”_ _

__“Good, ‘cause I can’t help you every time.”_ _

__“Thanks, Adam. You really are a genius.”_ _

__Eliza patted Adam on the head affectionately._ _

__“Can someone help me up?” Jasmine asked. “I think I got my arm stuck in the floor.”_ _

__“Remember what happened to Jasmine,” Adam said ominously._ _

__Eliza yanked her hand away, turning back to focus on her work._ _

__She ignored Jasmine’s pleas in the background._ _

__—_ _

__“So you’re my tutor?”_ _

__“Tt. I prefer the term ‘instructor’, and do not believe for a moment I will enjoy assisting you in overcoming your own stupidity. Father has forced me to partake in this worthless activity in an attempt to teach me ‘people skills’. He doubts I am adept at communicating effectively with my peers.”_ _

__“...Okay.”_ _

__“I’d prefer you stay a foot away from me at all times, lest your idiocy infect me.”_ _

__“...Riiight. So, I’ve been having trouble with these absolute value inequalities.”_ _

__“How are you at such a mediocre level that you struggle with such uncomplicated, straightforward material?”_ _

__“I just... am?”_ _

__She tried not to seem too weirded out my her tutor— _instructor_ —as she got out her math textbook and notebook. _ _

__“Tt.”_ _

__“Let’s get started!”_ _

__“You will additionally require a pencil.”_ _

__—_ _

__“How did it go?” Eliza’s father asked while they were walking home._ _

__“It went... better than I expected? I guess the tutor was a little rude—and maybe a little weird—but Adam comes off rude when he’s just trying to help, so I’m giving this Damian guy a chance. Who knows? He might end up as sweet as Adam.”_ _

__“Let’s hope he doesn’t get your arm stuck in the floor. Your mother isn’t too happy about the hole. I have a materials to fix it, and we’re going to be doing that as a family tomorrow.”_ _

__“Okay. Is...”_ _

__“Is what?”_ _

__“Is Mom going to be there?”_ _

__“No, she’s away for a business meeting. She left during your tutoring session, and she won’t be back until Tuesday.”_ _

__Eliza tried not to let the immense relief she felt show._ _

__“Oh. Okay.”_ _

__They—surprisingly—didn’t run into any trouble, despite the setting sun which indicated the beginning of another Gotham night._ _

__Gotham had always seemed so dark and gloomy. It never had sunlight, even in the middle of the day._ _

__San Francisco was sharp contrast, always beautiful and colorful, even in the night. Sure, there was crime, and a lot of it. Sure, there were supervillains. Sure, screams sometimes filled the night._ _

__But it was home._ _

___Had been_ home. _ _

__Gotham was new._ _

__Yet it was old, and full of pollution, and dirt, and..._ _

__Not full of much sun._ _

__Which was pretty essential for her to feel safe._ _

__Her powers didn’t work well without it._ _

__She wasn’t sure exactly what it was. Her dad talked about ‘crypt’s or whatever. Something about yellow suns._ _

__She didn’t get it, but he knew more, so whatever. Whatever he said._ _

__“We’re home,” her dad said._ _

___Oh._ _ _

__“How was your first day at extra-stupid people class?” Wisteria asked, leaning against the doorframe._ _

__“Wisteria, be nice to your sister,” their dad said without any force._ _

__“Yeah, yeah,” Wisteria said. “So, what was it like? Was your tutor nice? Was he mean? Oh, wait. Was he a guy or a girl?”_ _

__“Wis-”_ _

__“What’s his favorite color? Did you learn anything? Probably not, knowing you. Do you think tutoring is going to help you?”_ _

__“-ter-”_ _

__“Did you like him? Do you think you’ll get along with him? Do I need to get Jasmine to murder him? Does he seem dangerous? Do you think he’s a criminal?”_ _

__“-i-”_ _

__“Wait, what’s his name? Oh, and-”_ _

__“-a.”_ _

__“Sorry.”_ _

__“Uh... He was okay..? He seemed a little rude at first. Well, he just seemed rude. He wasn’t nice or mean. A guy. Um... I don’t know? I guess I learned a few things. Tutoring seems to be working a little..? I don’t have much of an opinion on him. I don’t know if we’ll get along at all. No. Yes. No, probably not,” Eliza answered. “And his name is Damian.”_ _

__“Damian?” Wisteria seemed ready to faint already. “Like, _Damian Wayne_ , Damian?” _ _

__“Uh... I don’t know. Who’s Dami-”_ _

__“YOU DON’T KNOW WHO DAMIAN WAYNE IS?”_ _

__“Uh... No? Is he important-”_ _

__“Is he IMPORTANT? HE’S ONE OF THE WAYNES, of COURSE HE’S IMPORTANT!”_ _

__“Wisteria, you _know_ I don’t pay any attention to that stuff.” _ _

__“He’s from one of—no _the_ —richest family in Gotham!” _ _

__“Well, we don’t even know if he’s the same person.”_ _

__“What did he look like?” Wisteria pressed, her tone calmer and voice quieter. She was still practically vibrating with excitement. _Actually_ vibrating. _ _

__“Uh... Green eyes, darkish complexion, black hair, slightly taller than me, bunch of scars-”_ _

__“Scars?”_ _

__“Yeah, they were pretty efficiently covered, though. He seemed really good at makeup, unless he got someone else to do it for him.”_ _

__Wisteria was frowning. “How do you think he got them?”_ _

__“I don’t know. Knives, maybe? They were all over his face, neck, and hands. I didn’t ask about them.”_ _

__“Right. Let me get a picture of him. Maybe you’ll be able to tell.”_ _

__Wisteria ran up into her room, leaving Eliza in the front room alone. She was only alone for a moment, as Adam soon joined her._ _

__“Hey Eliza.”_ _

__“Adam! What happened to your arm?”_ _

__Adam moved his arm closer to his side. “What do you think?”_ _

__Eliza flinched at the bitterness in his voice, glancing away from his glare. “Right.”_ _

__“It’ll be healed by morning.”_ _

__He was trying to make Eliza feel better, but she only felt worse._ _

__She should’ve been there._ _

__She should’ve helped._ _

__She-_ _

__“Oh my word, Eliza,” Adam said. “Quit blaming yourself.”_ _

__“...Sorry.”_ _

__Adam rolled his unseeing eyes. “Just get some sleep. We’re fixing the floor Jasmine broke tomorrow, remember?”_ _

__“Right,” Eliza said. “Wait, weren’t you the one who broke it? Jasmine got her arm stuck in it.”_ _

__Adam moved his hand as if to wave away her words. “Details.”_ _

__“Quit using your broken arm, you idiot,” Eliza fussed._ _

__“...Sorry? It’s just going to fix itself anyway. Well, good night.”_ _

__Eliza sighed. “‘Night.”_ _

__She hoped her siblings might gain common sense in the morning. Maybe-_ _

__“Is this him?” Wisteria asked, shoving her phone in Eliza’s face._ _

__“I can’t tell. Quit shaking it.”_ _

__“You’re just being picky. I can’t even see it shaking!”_ _

__Eliza sighed and yanked Wisteria’s phone away from her, glancing at the screen before returning it._ _

__“Yes, that’s him.”_ _

__“REALLY? Are you sure?”_ _

__“Yes.”_ _

__“You barely even looked.”_ _

__Do I have to? The detail on the picture is horrible. I caught everything in it.”_ _

__“...Riiight, Mrs. Perfect Eyesight. I’ll- Hey, you can’t just close the door on me!”_ _

__Eliza tossed her bag onto the ground._ _

__Wisteria was still yelling as she flopped into bed._ _

__“Siblings,” Eliza muttered before falling asleep._ _

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> I think this should be all the characters for now, other than random background characters and relatives of main characters. For instance, I haven’t introduced Leonie’s family, nor have I introduced certain main characters who shall appear in a long time. 
> 
> For now, though, that’s everyone who’s too important. They’ve at least been mentioned, and most of y’all will already know the Gotham Rouges Gallery. 
> 
> There may be random switches to already established character’s views, whether OC or not. For instance, I might switch it to Adam’s (Original Character) or Harley’s (DC Character) view.


	12. Damian Wayne

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> WARNING: This chapter discusses abuse. Viewer discretion is encouraged. 
> 
> Okay, so this is written in Damian’s view, and everyone’s names have changed to their last names. ‘Clarke’, as stated, is Eliza. ‘Elliot’ is Clyde. ‘Grayson’ ‘Todd’ and ‘Kyle’ are, respectively, Richard, Jason, and Selina. Bruce is referred to as ‘Father’.

“Like this?” Clarke asked. It was their fourth tutoring session, and she didn’t seem to be improving. 

“No, you imbecile.” Damian corrected her and showed her where her mistake was. 

“Ohhh. I get it. Like this.” 

“You forgot the negative sign,” Damian said, “for the third time this session.” 

“Sorry.” 

Clarke seemed nervous today, full of energy. She seemed worse than before, even though she’d normally been energetic. She hadn’t solved a single problem correctly without guidance, and her hand kept shaking as she wrote. Whenever she stopped, she’d fiddle with it and wince. 

Damian guessed she was hurt, trying to hide it, and failing. 

Miserably. 

_Pathetic._

“Can you still solve the problem, or is your hand preventing you from writing?” Damian asked. He filled his voice with as much annoyance as possible, to mask his concern. 

“Oh, no. Sorry. I mean... I can still write. I just hurt my hand this morning. I think it’s going to bruise.” 

_Really smooth, Clarke._

“If you’re hurt, you shouldn’t be writing.” 

“It’s fiiine. It’ll heal.” 

“Clarke, you’re being an imbecile.” 

“Damian, I’ve told you a million times,” Clarke said. “It’s _Eliza_.” 

“False. You have only informed me of your name seventeen times, despite there being no need.” 

“I’m telling you to call me by my first name.” 

“I will call you by your first name when you gain the right for me to do so.” 

“I have a right to decide what I want to be called.” 

“And I have a right to freedom of speech.” 

“Not when it presents a clear and present danger,” Clarke countered, snapping her pencil with an annoyed expression on her face. 

“Wow,” a new voice joined. “You two seem to be getting along just fine.” 

A very _familiar_ new voice. 

“I am not ‘getting along just fine’ with Clarke, Todd. She is a nuisance, and nothing more.” 

“ _Reallllly..?_

“I have no interest in befriending her.” 

“That’s what you said about Jon, and Jaime, and Garfield, and Rachel, and-” 

“Silence, cretin.” 

“Yeah, yeah.” Todd said, turning to Clarke. “I’m Jason.” 

“I’m Eliza, despite whatever _this_ idiot calls me.” 

“Woah,” Todd said. “You just called _Demon Brat_ an idiot. _That’s_ gotta end well.” 

“...Demon... Brat..?” 

“If _I_ am the idiot,” Damian said, “then why am _I_ teaching _you_?” 

“I never said you were the _only_ idiot.” 

“That is _it_ -” 

“C’mon, Short Stack,” Todd said. “Quit picking on people even shorter than _you_.” 

“I am not _short, Todd_.” 

“Whatever you say, Tater Tot.” 

“I am not-!” 

“Whatever,” Todd said, patting Damian on the head annoyingly. Damian was just about to bite his hand when Todd removed his hand. “Get your stuff.” 

“I-” 

“ _Damian_.” 

“Tt.” 

Damian sighed and started packing his things, watching silently as Todd conversed with Clarke. Todd seemed at ease, but Damian could see how tense he really was. Clarke looked awkward, and Damian guessed she had noticed too. 

Todd was analyzing her every move, looking into her every word, and reading every movement in her body which might give away something. 

Todd was making sure she wasn’t dangerous. 

Damian had done so himself. 

Todd would find nothing but a surprisingly muscular young girl with little tolerance for pain. 

Still, as he watched, Damian saw Todd’s eyes narrow, and he made a suspicious face. Clarke definitely noticed, and her shoulders tensed for but a moment. 

Damian narrowed his own eyes. 

Something was off about her. Something he hadn’t noticed. 

Todd’s people-reading skills—as much as Damian hated to admit—were far superior to Damian’s own. 

Todd read a person’s past. 

Damian read a person’s present. 

Cain read a person’s future. And present. Sometimes their pasts, too. 

Damian hated to admit it, but he was far from the best. 

_I must be going crazy to admit that, even in my head._

At least he wasn’t admitting it aloud. 

“Got your stuff yet?” 

“I am not as slow at packing as you are, Todd.” 

“‘Kay. Let’s go.” Todd replied. “Bye, Eliza. See you again soon!” 

“See you,” Clarke replied. 

— 

“‘Sup, B?” Todd greeted too informally for Damian’s liking. 

Todd didn’t know what respect was. 

Father grunted. 

Father was not good at communication. 

It was one of his flaws. 

“Hello, Father.” 

Father grunted again. 

Damian ignored him and went to go work on homework. This ‘tutoring’ thing was consuming his time, and he was displeased with the forced social interaction. He’d finished his work and was drawing when there was knocking on his door. 

Three knocks, sharp and loud in quick succession. 

“What do you want, Todd?” 

“I need to talk to you about your friend.” 

“Clarke is not my friend.” 

“I wasn’t talking ‘bout Supes.” 

“You know who I meant, Todd.” 

“Yeah, yeah,” Todd said. “Well, I’m coming into your room whether you like it or not, and we’re going to talk, okay?” 

“Todd, I did not tell you you could-” 

The door opened. “Too late.” 

“Todd, leave this instant!” 

“Ooh, are you drawing something? What is it?” 

“Todd!” Damian yelped, violently shutting the sketchbook. 

“Aw, the little demon’s embarrassed. ‘Sokay, Damian. Your secret drawings are safe with me.” 

“Leave my room at once, Todd!” 

“Anyway!” Todd said. “We need to talk about Eliza.” 

Damian set his sketchbook in his desk drawer, giving Todd an inquisitive look. “What about Clarke?” 

“I think there’s something up with her.” 

“Mhm.” Damian replied, gathering his pencils and putting them away one by one. 

“What have you noticed?” 

“She’s an imbecile, Todd, and very bad at lying. Ask _her_ your questions. She’ll answer them for you, even if she doesn’t intend it.” 

“Hm... Has she shown any signs of powers? Or maybe signs of being in a bad situation..?” 

Damian paused, tapping a pencil against his chin absentmindedly. “I- Well, she was injured earlier, at the start of the session. It appeared to be better after you arrived, but she might have been hiding it from you. The imbecile is probably beginning to trust me enough to fumble over her lies and trust I’ll listen to what she says.” 

Todd seemed to be deep in thought. Damian wondered why he thought Clarke was strange. Was there something he’d failed to notice previously? 

“Welp, ’m keeping an eye on her. There’s somethin’ off ‘bout ‘er, bu’ I can’ place i’ an’-” 

“Todd, you are losing your letters.” 

“Oh.” 

“Congratulations, Todd,” Damian said, putting away his last pencil. “You remembered one.” 

“Shut the fu-,” Jason stumbled over the word, “-uuuuudge up, Pipsqueak!” 

“Todd, remove yourself from my room.” 

“Whatever y’ say.” 

“Go find your missing alphabet.” 

“Shut it! I lost my grip on language for _one second_ and you-” 

“ _Leave._ ” 

“Riiiiight. Whatever.” 

Todd turned, closing the door behind him much more softly than Damian expected, but much more violently than any normal person would accidentally. 

— 

“Your stance is off,” Damian stated. 

“Why is Damian in the Batcave?” Elliot—the older one—asked. 

“Tt,” Damian said. “For your information, I was aware of this crusade long before you even met Selina, and I am much more competent than he likes of you.” 

“...Why is there a little kid involved with this?” Elliot asked, turning to Selina. 

“I AM NOT A CHILD!” 

“Damian, stand down,” Father said. 

“LET ME FIGHT HIM!” Damian yelled, trying to wiggle out of Grayson’s random hug. “UNHAND ME!” 

Father was pinching the bridge of his nose and Kyle was smirking, two equally confusing reactions. Was Father exasperated with him displaying his abilities? Was Kyle amused at the situation? 

They should both be glad he was here, prepared to teach Elliot a much-needed lesson. 

They should be glad he is eager to help in Elliot’s training. 

They shouldn’t be approving of Grayson’s torture. 

“Calm down, Baby Bat,” Grayson said. 

Damian punched him in the jaw. 

“Ow... Dami, why?” 

“He’s probably just a little frustrated,” Elliot answered. “Bruce adopted Destiny, and Selina adopted me and my sister. Now, Bruce’s attention is divided even more, and he’s focusing more on me and Destiny than he is Damian. Damian’s even been sent away to tutoring. If I were in his place, I’d be pretty frustrated too.” 

Father and Kyle exchanged glances. Obviously, they had neglected searching for the reasoning. 

Damian glanced between his father, Kyle, Elliot, and Grayson. Grayson, who was the first to speak. 

“We should get going on patrol.” 

“Damian,” Father said. “As long as it doesn’t disregard my rules, do whatever Richard tells you.” 

“Yes, Father.” 

His father and Kyle exchanged another look. 

Damian didn’t know what was unofficially said, but he knew he was missing a few silent words. 

He let out a frustrated growl before turning swiftly to change.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> This was so weird for me to write, especially when Bruce showed up. Y’know, writing ‘Father’ when referring to someone through the narration rather than dialogue. It just felt strange.


	13. Chloe Elliot

Chloe watched as Clyde performed his new fighting moves, training diligently as he had over the past few days. She didn’t really know what he was doing, but he seemed obsessed, so she’d decided it was best not to disturb him. 

A blue-eyed white tabby cat walked up to her, head-butting her affectionately. Chloe already knew his name was Fountain. She wondered where Cloud and Rain were. She’d never seen them apart, and Miss Selina had said she guessed they were siblings. 

Miss Selina didn’t actually own any of these cats, as far as Chloe knew. She’d never said she did, at least. They were all very well behaved for strays. 

Chloe petted Fountain, running both hands through his impossibly fluffy fur. Some of the cats had started shedding their winter coat, making them _really fluffy_. 

“I’m gonna take a short break,” Clyde said. “Do you wanna come with?” 

“Sure!” Chloe said, startling Fountain. “What are we doing?” 

“Getting a snack and maybe playing a few games? What do you think we should do?” 

“I’ll get a snack too, but if we play games I’m choosing.” 

Clyde laughed and patted her on the head. “Sure thing, sis.” 

They had snacks—an apple for Clyde and crackers for Chloe—and played a few board games, then Clyde got back to his training. Chloe sat in the room where they’d been playing games, watching as cats passed and listening as the clock ticked. 

Eventually, Miss Selina came home, had dinner with everyone, and put Chloe to bed. 

Chloe waited as the seconds passed. It was one of those nights where she just couldn’t get any sleep. The hairs on her arms and on the back of her neck refused to stay down, and every dark corner seemed to have a monster there, waiting for her. 

_It’s not real._

_It’s not real._

_IT’S NOT REAL._

Chloe sighed and sat up, dissatisfied with all the little things. 

“You’re not real.” 

The shadow creature only smiled. 

“You’re a bad monster-” 

The shadow creature stepped back, closer to the shadows. 

“-But you’re only in my head. I’m dreaming in real life ‘cause I didn’t sleep.” 

It didn’t respond this time. 

It didn’t go away, either. Not until the sun peaked through the windows. 

Chloe walked downstairs, yawning. She wasn’t shocked to be the only one awake. It was kind of lonely, but... 

No one could monitor her cereal intake if they weren’t awake. 

Clyde was the first to join her, getting a plate and some bread before taking the seat across from her. 

“You look miserable,” Clyde commented. 

Chloe flopped onto the table, her head resting on her arms. It was hard because she was so small, and it barely felt restful. 

“I want more cereal.” 

Clyde smiled. “That’s more like you.” 

Chloe glared. “You’re making fun of me again.” 

“Maybe.” 

“Meany.” 

Clyde grinned and poked her nose. 

“Hey!” 

“You do it to the cats all the time.” 

“I’m not a cat!” 

“You act like one.” 

“I am not a cat!” 

“Are you two bickering again?” 

“Good morning!” Chloe exclaimed. 

Helena shook her head in either amusement or exasperation and went to get her own breakfast. 

Miss Selina followed moments later, dark bags under her eyes. She seemed really tired. She hadn’t even put on makeup. 

“Are you okay?” Chloe asked. 

“Just tired,” Miss Selina said with a smile. 

“Okay. Is it almost time for school?” 

“We’re not doing school today.” 

“Okay...” 

Miss Selina was homeschooling them to get them caught up to the correct level before letting them attend public school. The orphanage wasn’t the best at education, so they had a lot to learn before they reached a normal learning level. 

Chloe had always enjoyed her school. Clyde had taught her a lot of what she knew, and now Miss Selina was teaching her more. She was going into second grade, so she didn’t have much she needed to already know. Clyde, however, was older, and he needed to know a lot. He seemed to spend all of his time with school or training. 

Chloe watched as Helena left for whatever it was she did and Miss Selina left for work. Clyde moved to a different room, probably planning on working or training. 

Chloe flopped onto the old, torn-up couch and stared at all its imperfections. A rip here, a stain there—whatever could be expected of a well-used couch. 

A meow disrupted her, and she glanced towards the floor to notice a Siamese cat staring up at her. 

“Hey Isis.” 

Isis meowed again and flicked her tail towards the door. 

“Do you want me to follow you?” 

Isis meowed, nodding her head in a very un-cat like gesture. 

Chloe rose and followed her, ignoring how unusual the situation was. 

Isis was Isis. 

Isis had always been a little off, different from the other cats by a long-shot. Smarter, more regal. Less focused on bathing in the sun and more focused on watching. More patient, yet more demanding. Irritable, definitely. More... human. 

Yet not. 

Chloe followed her, not paying attention to how far she went. She barely noticed when they’d left the house, and she noticed even less when she no longer knew the land. 

She realized when Isis stopped that she was utterly, completely lost. 

She looked around frantically, her heart thumping hard. Her throat tightened, and she felt like she couldn’t breathe. 

A paw rested on her bare foot, jolting her mostly away from the fear. Isis was staring up at her. 

Isis flicked her tail, seeming to be pointing. Chloe looked where she was pointing. 

There stood an old building, two stories tall and crumpling apart more than the couch at Miss Selina’s place. It reminded her of the orphanage, only the orphanage had been worse-off. 

Someone was working on repairing the wall at one of the worse spots. He stood on a ladder, seeming entranced in his task. Chloe glanced at Isis unsurely. Isis nodded as if to urge her onwards. 

“Uh... okay.” 

She walked over to the boy. 

“Hi!” 

The boy started, hitting his thumb with the hammer he was using before falling backwards, which caused the ladder to fall. Chloe gasped, but a lady came out of seemingly nowhere, jumping and catching the boy. The lady had dark tan skin, black hair, and was wearing all gray, which was probably why Chloe hadn’t noticed her standing in the shadows. 

“Be careful!” the lady scolded. 

“Sorry,” the boy answered. “Got startled.” 

“By what?” she snapped. 

“Uh...” the boy trailed off and looked at Chloe. “Her?” 

The lady looked over towards her. 

“Who might you be?” she asked, her suddenly soft and kind voice a stark contrast to her fierce features. 

“Um.” Chloe looked down at Isis, who was licking her paw as if pretending not to be involved. “...Chloe?” 

“Nice to meet you, Chloe,” the lady said. “I’m Alex.” 

Behind her, the boy flicked his wrist around and tapped his thumb, wincing. “I’m Lee.” 

“What are you doing here away from your parents?” Alex asked. Her voice was sweet, like she was talking to a little kid. 

Chloe paused as she realized she herself _was_ a little kid. 

“They’re dead,” Chloe said bluntly, “and Miss Selina’s at work. Isis brought me here.” 

“Isis?” 

“My cat.” 

“Oh,” Alex said, turning to Isis. “Hi, Isis. I’m Alex.” 

Isis paused, but otherwise didn’t react. 

“You should get going home,” Lee said. “It may be mid-day, but Gotham is Gotham.” 

“I like Gotham,” Chloe replied, causing Alex and Lee to exchange a glance. “The people here are nice, and the city feels like home, even the parts I don’t know. Everything is so interesting.” 

She knew they didn’t share her views. 

It didn’t seem anyone did. 

Still, just as everyone always did, Alex and Lee kept their mouths shut in an attempt not to ruin her viewpoint on the city. 

‘Cause she was just a little girl. 

Someone to be protected. 

“Let’s get you home,” Alex said. “Do you know the way?” 

“Nope!” Chloe declared in a sing-song voice, beginning to walk around the sidewalk. “But that’s okay. Worst things worst I’ll get kidnapped and Batman’ll come to save me. That or Catwoman. Or Nightwing, Robin, Red Robin, Spoiler, Orphan, Hood... There are so many great people doing great things. They won’t let me get hurt.” 

Alex grimaced and Lee spoke. “They aren’t always there.” 

“Nope!” Chloe said with a skip. “And that’ll be the end of it. I’ll be gone.” She turned to them. “But that won’t happen. Not to me.” 

“You don’t know it won’t,” Alex said. 

“But they _know_ me,” Chloe responded. “They’ll be there until I can be there for myself.” 

“But-” 

“Oh. Hey, Chloe,” someone greeted. 

_Speak of the devil and he shall appear._

“‘Sup, Jay?” 

“Nothing much. What’s up with you? Why are you here?” 

“Followed Isis,” she answered simply. “Mom’s at work. Helena’s wherever. Clyde’s busy.” 

“You shouldn’t go around Gotham on your own; it’s not safe.” 

“I’m not alone. Isis is here.” 

Jason glanced at Isis. “I get that Isis is a very capable cat, but you still need adult supervision. _Human_ adult supervision.” 

Isis hissed. 

“I agree,” Chloe said. “Jason is mean.” 

“Jason?” Lee said. “I thought your name was just ‘Jay’, so... Is ‘Jay’ a nickname..?” 

“It’s what I’d like you to call me, yes,” Jason answered. “I’ll be back in a moment; I have to take Chloe home.” 

“Okay.” Alex turned to Lee. “We should get your thumb looked at.” 

“Yeah.” 

Chloe pouted as Jason took her back home. She didn’t understand why she couldn’t go out on her own, although she knew it was something that was pretty dangerous in normal cities. In Gotham? 

Worse than deadly.


	14. Selina Kyle (II)

“Chloe?” Selina said. “Chloe! Thank goodness you’re okay. Where on earth were you?” 

“In the Bowery,” Jason answered. 

“What were you doing there?” Selina asked, her voice still shaking with concern. 

_I need to calm down._

“Isis led me there,” Chloe answered. 

“Isis?” 

“The cat?” 

“Yeah, yeah. I know Isis, but... why would she take you there?” 

“Dunno.” 

“You shouldn’t wander off like that, even if you were with Isis. Do you have any idea how worried I was?” 

“Uh...” Chloe glanced at Jason and Isis before turning back to Selina. “Kind of? You seem stressed.” 

“Of course I’m stressed, Chloe,” Selina said, kneeling to get down to Chloe’s level. She put her hands on Chloe’s shoulders and looked her in the eyes. “I could’ve lost you.” 

“Sorry, Mom.” 

Selina paused before pulling her into a hug. 

“Just don’t run off like that again,” Selina said. 

“Okay.” 

She relaxed, realizing how tense she had been moments ago. 

“I’m glad you’re okay,” Selina said. “Really, _really_ glad. And relieved.” 

“‘M sorry for running off.” Chloe’s voice was muffled because of how tightly she was clutching Selina. 

Selina practically felt Jason’s awkward shifting, which amused her. 

“I’m... gonna go back to... what I was doing.” 

Selina flashed a smile. “Have fun.” 

“Bye Jay,” Chloe said with a small smile that could pass as a smirk. 

Jason cleared his throat. “Uh... yeah, bye.” 

He closed the door behind him. Selina couldn’t help the amusement which slowly filled her. All Bruce’s kids were always so _adorable,_ especially when embarrassed or awkward. 

“Chloe!” Clyde’s yell brought Selina’s attention back to the gravity of the situation. 

“Hey, big brother,” Chloe said, almost tauntingly. By Selina’s observations, they called each other ‘little sister’ and ‘big brother’ when teasing and Clyde called Chloe ‘sis’ when he was feeling protective or especially brotherly. 

“You could’ve gotten yourself killed.” 

“But I didn’t.” 

“It won’t happen again,” Selina said. 

A feeling of dread rose in her. 

This was the first time. 

It wouldn’t be the last. 

No matter what she told them. 

No matter what she told _herself._

“We should get something to eat,” Selina said. “It’s been a long day.” 

“Mom, it’s barely even lunchtime.” 

“Well, there’s nothing wrong with eating a little early.” 

_No wonder Bruce is always so stressed,_ she thought. _Helena running around and beating people up as a hobby was bad enough, but now I have two more kids._

Bruce officially had seven—two biological, five adopted. Selina knew he viewed Steph and Duke as his kids, too. 

She wondered how he handled it. 

— 

“Mom?” 

“Yes, Chloe?” 

“I’m sorry I ran away. I didn’t notice I went too far.” 

“It’s okay,” Selina said. 

“Isis took me there.” 

“I know.” 

“I met two really nice people.” 

Selina paused. They could’ve been criminals. They might have been after Chloe. They might _still_ be after Chloe. 

“They said their names were Alex and Lee. Jason seemed to know them.” 

“Really?” 

Well, it might be okay if they were Jason’s friends... 

Who was she kidding? Over half of Jason’s friends were criminals. 

_Jason_ was a criminal. 

_Selina herself_ was a criminal. 

She was just a cat-burglar turned vigilante, though. 

’Just’ in that sentence said a lot about her life. ‘Vigilante’ said more. 

“Lee was really nice,” Chloe said, “but I think I might’ve hurt him. He hit his hand with the hammer and fell off the ladder.” 

Selina flinched. 

Yikes. 

“Is he okay?” 

“He’s not dead.” 

Chloe was pacing around the room. She never seemed able to sit still. 

Like Richard. 

“What about Alex?” 

“She—or he—was okay. She was older than Lee. Like Clyde’s age.” 

“Oh?” 

Selina had been imagining adults. Not teenagers. 

“Yep,” Chloe said. “Lee looked younger than her. Like, maybe a few years. He had brown hair, not like Alex. Alex had black hair. She looked completely like a shadow.” 

“Well,” Selina said. “It’s nice that you made friends, but maybe, next time, you can make friends at school instead of running across the city to find them.” 

“I think there’s something important about them,” Chloe said, not appearing to have listened. “Isis seems to think so.” 

“I-” Selina didn’t know what to say in response. 

“You’re important, too.” Chloe spun around from her pacing to look at Selina. “Though not in the same way.” 

“What do you mean..?” 

“Well,” Chloe stared at her intently, “you’re my mother.” 

“Aw...” 

“But you’re also a vigilante, right?” 

“...What..?” 

“Oh, it was obvious.” Chloe returned to her pacing. “You’re Catwoman. It’s why you have so many cats. It’s why you know Bruce, ‘cause he’s Batman.” 

“I-” 

“Just take a moment. You’ll process it then.” 

Selina paused like she was told. There was no way she could’ve hidden it, but she didn’t expect them to figure out this quickly. It wouldn’t be really good that they knew, right..? 

Selina paused. 

No, she wasn’t Bruce. She trusted people. She trusted her kids. They wouldn’t randomly tell people her identity. 

Even if they did, she got the feeling she wouldn’t be able to stay mad at them. 

She brought herself back to reality, not letting her flurry of thoughts overwhelm her. 

“It’s probably better that you know.” 

“Yep,” Chloe said. “As long as I don’t tell anyone, and I won’t, so we’re good.” 

Selina smiled. “Yeah.” 

“You won’t have to bother making up lame excuses about things... like how you broke your leg.” 

“Yeah.” 

“How _did_ you break your leg? I bet you kicked a- butt.” 

“I was saving Hood.” 

“Oh, Red Hood? He’s so cool, isn’t he?” 

“Yep.” 

“The other kids loved him.” 

“He _is_ good with kids.” 

Chloe paused. “But he-” 

“He what?” 

“He doesn’t like green.” 

“Wha-“ Selina cut off in a moment of realization. “Wait, you already-” 

“It feels like you all aren’t even trying to hide your identities.” 

Selina paused. 

Chloe was a little, small, tiny genius. 

Like Tim. 

There was a loud thud from another room. 

“Clyde was probably an idiot,” Chloe said. “He does stupid things.” 

Selina moved to the other room, Chloe tailing her the entire way. 

“Clyde?” 

“I just fell.” Clyde brushed himself off as he spoke. “Nothing major.” 

“You’re bleeding.” 

Clyde looked himself over, almost immediately noticing the scratch on his arm. “Oh.” 

“Let’s get that treated,” Selina said. 

“Okay.” 

Selina’s lip quirked upwards in amusement. Clyde reminded her of Richard sometimes. 

_Why am I thinking so much about Bruce’s kids?_

Deep inside, Selina already knew the answer. It was a part of her she couldn’t help, a part already ingrained into her she wouldn’t ever even try to destroy. 

She knew, and she knew well, that Bruce’s kids were her kids too.


	15. Bruce Wayne

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Hey, so... I’ve missed the exact update time these past two weeks... sorry. I’d advise checking the day after if you actually check this regularly. You can also bookmark, if you want.
> 
> Anyway, I’m wasting time. Here you go!
> 
> (Also, my proofreader hasn’t read this yet, so... sorry.)

Bruce’s thoughts were a whirlwind of anxiety, possible outcomes, and what he needed to do. 

Kidnappings were normal. 

They were even expected. 

One kid getting kidnapped was surprisingly not a daily occurrence, and unsurprisingly a monthly occurrence. 

Two kids being kidnapped was not unusual. For instance, if Dick was taking Damian someplace to hang out, they could both get kidnapped. 

Three kids getting kidnapped at the same time was less expected. It was rare more than two of them were hanging out together outside Wayne Manor if it wasn’t the whole family. 

All of them at once, even when they were all separated, save for Tim and Jason? 

That wasn’t a first, but... 

_Wasn’t a first._

Bruce grimaced. 

It wasn’t a good thing that all his kids got kidnapped. 

_It wasn’t a first._

Destiny... 

Destiny was a first. 

Being kidnapped. 

She was a first for a lot of things, but... 

Well, when someone raises six kids, it isn’t hard to notice similarities in between them, and it isn’t hard to notice similarities in the seventh. 

He had six official kids now, not counting Helena as a second biological one. The public didn’t know she was his. 

He had eleven actual kids: Dick, Jason, Cass, Steph, Tim, Helena, Clyde, Duke, Damian, Destiny, and Chloe. 

Furthermore, he had an extended family which didn’t count legally. There were Barbara and the Rows. Heck, even the Kents. 

_At least they weren’t_ all _kidnapped._

Bruce fell further into the chair, slumping in defeat. 

He hadn’t gotten a ransom call. Instead, he’d received a frantic call from Barbara stating that everyone’s trackers stopped working. 

Everyone’s trackers had stopped working _after_ all their vital signs suddenly decreased, according to Barbara. He’d checked. It probably was nothing good, but still... 

Even Steph and the Kyles were gone. _All_ the Kyles. 

Hell, even _Kate_ was missing. 

The Batcomputer lit up, and what Bruce hoped to be their location turned out to be someone that made his blood run cold. There was a message from Barbara at the top: 

_**I just received this:**_

There were six pictures. There were thirteen people. 

Selina, Helena, Clyde, and Chloe were in one. They seemed to be unconscious. 

_They could be dead._

Bruce had no way of knowing. 

Another photo held Dick, Jason, and Tim, all tied together. It seemed like they were stripped of anything, _anything_ that might help them. 

Cass and Steph were in a third. Cass seemed to be much more heavily restrained than the others, although it didn’t seem like the others could move a finger. 

It didn’t seem like she could _breathe._

Damian and Destiny were in the same photo, though unlike Dick, Jason, and Tim, they weren’t tied together. They seemed to be on opposite sides of a room. 

Damian looked injured. 

Kate was chained rather than tied, unlike the others, and Cass who had been both. She seemed less pale than the others, but there were tracks of blood from her forehead down the side of her face. 

It was a _lot_ of blood. 

Duke was alone, tied up similarly to the others. 

Everyone looked unconscious and extremely pale. 

“Do you know where they are?” 

“ _No._ ” Barbara’s voice answered. “ _I’m working on it. The backgrounds don’t give anything away, and the photos have been scrubbed completely of any data which might show where they were taken. The message was obviously bounced, and I’m working on finding where they bounced it off of what. My computer’s rerunning recognition for the backgrounds._ ” 

“I’ll run it on the Batcomputer.” 

“ _Okay._ ” 

Bruce waited as patiently as he could force himself to be. They could find them. 

“ _Do we know of any motives?_ ” 

Bruce grunted. 

He didn’t, except... 

“They’re all related to me,” Bruce answered. “Have you gotten anything about a ransom?” 

“ _Bruce_ ” Barbara said, the sadness and stress in her tone making Bruce flinch. “ _They contacted me, not you. They didn’t even mention what it is they want. I don’t think they want a ransom._ ” 

“...Right,” Bruce said, clearing his throat. “Anything that suggests it’s related to the other life?” 

“ _I don’t know. It might be. That, or they’re looking for revenge._ ” 

Bruce let out a sound like a dying cat. 

_Revenge._

Against him, or Barbara? They did contact Barbara... 

“Do you-” 

“ _I’m not sure. If they were trying to get vengeance towards me, they probably would’ve taken my dad._ ” 

“Right.” 

They didn’t take Alfred. 

They probably overlooked him. 

People never seemed to give Alfred as much respect and attention as he deserved. 

At least it played out in their favor this time. There was one less person to save and one more person to help. 

“Contact Harper,” Bruce instructed. “I’m calling the League.” 

“Got it.” 

Bruce knew that if Richard were there, he’d laugh and say ‘Batman, calling for help?’. 

Bruce gritted his teeth and contacted the Watchtower via video call. 

Green Lantern picked up. 

_Great_

It _had_ to be him. 

“Contact the others,” Bruce instructed, swallowing his pride yet still gritting his teeth as he spoke. “I need backup.” 

“Wow, _Batman_ needs backup?” 

“I wasn’t joking.” 

“Yeah, yeah. Where’s the rest of your colony?” 

“Not here.” 

“Ooh, did you fight with them ag-” 

“ _Green Lantern_ ,” he growled. 

“Okay, okay! No need to hurt me.” 

Bruce waited as Green Lantern forwarded the request to the others. It was moments before they were in the Watchtower. Superman, Wonder Woman, Green Arrow, Green Lantern, Flash, Martian Manhunter—all waiting when Bruce arrived. 

“Why’dya call, Bats?” Flash asked. 

Bruce cleared his throat, drawing the attention of everyone in the room. 

“Most Gotham vigilantes are unavailable. Bluebird and I are the only ones free. Riddler is still at large and Mad Hatter disappeared yesterday,” he summed it up, noticing a few looks. 

“Can’t you handle them on your own?” Green Arrow asked. “I’ve got stuff to do in Star city.” 

Bruce continued, ignoring him for the time being. “Oracle received a tip that the Waynes and the Kyles have been abducted-” he locked eyes with Clark “-Along with Katherine Kane and Duke Thomas, and Stephanie Brown. Bruce Wayne and his butler are safe. It is unclear the motive behind the abductions.” 

“I still think that’s something you’d usually handle on your own,” Green Arrow said. “A few kidnappings, Riddler, and Mad Hatter? Easy!” 

Bruce grunted his disapproval. 

“ _Uh, Bruce..?_ ” 

He moved his hand up to his ear. “Yes, Oracle?” 

“ _There’s been an Arkham breakout. Bane, Joker, Scarecrow, Two-Face, Croc, Clayface, Freeze—they’re all out._ ” 

The League probably noticed the brief expression of exasperation, horror, and worry that flashed across Bruce’s face. He swore under his breath. 

He was almost too stressed to care. 

Screw that, he _was_ too stressed to care. 

“Call back Bluebird. She can’t handle that on her own.” 

“ _Already on it._ ” 

“Inform Ivy and Harley if you can.” 

“ _Got it_.” 

Bruce looked back at the others, noticing their concerned and attentive expressions. 

“There’s been an Arkham breakout.” 

“Quick question,” Green Lantern said, raising his hand slightly. “Are we... getting _Poison Ivy_ and _Harley Quinn_ , two _villains_ to help us?” 

“Yes,” Bruce answered ignoring the shock that crossed Green Lantern’s face. “Harley and Ivy will likely deal with Joker.” 

“Isn’t Harley dating Joker..?” 

Bruce pinched the bridge of his nose. He was almost ready to scream. 

“No,” he said. 

“I assume we’re getting Catwoman, too, then. Right?” 

Bruce glared. “No.” 

At his tone and glare, Green Lantern shut up, obviously knowing better than to continue running his mouth. 

“We should go,” Clark said. 

Bruce nodded. 

They used the Zeta Beams to get to the Batcave. Bruce grimaced as he realized what a mess the place was. 

When was the last time he’d left the cave..? 

He shook his head to clear it. 

The Batcomputer was still showing the pictures, increasing Bruce’s panic just by him seeing them again. 

“These are our only clues.” Bruce gestured at the screen. “They were abducted in these locations-” he switched it to show the map “-at precisely eight ‘o’ clock.” 

“Great!” Green Arrow said. “We’ll be able to figure out _so much_ from that!” 

“Why do you think I called the Justice League?” Bruce asked. Green Arrow opened his mouth. “That was rhetorical.” 

“I’ll try to search for their minds,” Martian Manhunter said. 

“I’m gonna take a walk,” Flash said. “Be back in a Flash!” 

Bruce grunted. “Superman, Wonder Woman, you’re with me. Green Arrow, Green Lantern, you’re a group. We’ll be searching for the escaped Arkham prisoners and the abductees. Take this-” he tossed comm pieces at them. “-so you can communicate with Oracle.” 

“ _Testing one, two, three._ ” 

The Greens jumped. 

“There are eight Arkham prisoners and thirteen captives,” Bruce said. “We-” 

An alarm went off on the Batcomputer, showing footage of Bane destroying part of the city, Freeze breaking into a lab, and Croc attacking someone. 

“Arrow, Lantern,” Bruce said. “Deal with Bane. Superman, Freeze. Wonder Woman and I will handle with Croc.” 

They departed, heading separate ways and dealing with separate villains and putting Bane, Freeze, and Croc back in Arkham. 

They searched for hours to no avail. Regrouping at the Batcave, they reported their findings. It was four in the morning, and many of them seemed ready to collapse. Joker, Scarecrow, Two-Face, and Clayface were in hiding, and the Waynes and friends were nowhere to be found. 

Bruce was sitting in the Batcomputer’s chair. 

“Hey,” Clark said. 

Bruce grunted. 

“We’ll find them, okay? We will.” 

“But will they be alive?” 

Clark fell silent. 

“I just- I don’t know what to do without them. What- What if they don’t make it? I don’t know- What’ll I ever do without them?” 

“It’ll be okay,” Clark said, patting Bruce on the back. “We’ll save them. We always do.” 

“Not always,” Bruce grunted, practically growling. 

He very vividly remembered an incident, years ago, when the warehouse exploded and he held a corpse in his arms. He remembered the funeral, and how some people lingered longer than others. He remembered when Alfred slipped up and actually dropped something, because the one, the one who was supposed to be dead, was alive, hurting and broken more than ever before, despite the demons he already had. 

“Not always,” Bruce repeated, softer this time. 

He remembered another time, another broken body. Another thing that could never be reversed, as the wheelchair moved and the girl never walked again. 

But Jason... Jason never broke in two. He never stopped going, moving on. Never stopped trying, stopped winning, stopped _fighting_ , even when the monsters screamed and the people died and the darkness was only drowned out by green light. 

And Barbara, she was just the same. She was probably the only one in the world who could say ‘never give up’ without being hypocritical. She was so stubborn, determined, so _strong_... Nothing stopped her from doing what she thought was best. 

And Bruce... Bruce didn’t deserve either of them. 

“They’ll be okay,” Clark said. 

Bruce cleared his throat and got up, waiting a moment before Diana appeared. 

“I have found nothing,” Diana said. 

After her, people came pouring in, stating they hadn’t found the hostages. 

“You are troubled,” Martian Manhunter commented. 

Bruce paused. “The city is in danger.” 

“We need to prioritize,” Green Arrow said. “The villains need to be put back in Arkham.” 

“The Waynes, Kyles, and Kate and Duke need to be saved,” Bruce said, his voice authoritative. 

“Look,” Arrow continued, “I’m as worried as the next person, but we need to prioritize Gotham over a group of rich kids.” 

“Those kids-” 

“Are the kids of your financial backer, right? Well-” 

“Let’s just all calm-” 

“ _Arrow._ ” Bruce cut off Superman. 

“I know you’re worried, but it’s just unrealistic to value the lives of a few over the lives of others. You need to get your head in the game and _think_.” 

“ _You_ would prioritize _your_ kid if he went missing... if you actually cared.” 

There were gasps from Flash and Green Lantern as Green Arrow glared. 

“...Buuurn,” Flash said. 

“I do care!” Arrow snapped. 

“If you did, you’d understand,” Bruce said. 

“I understand you’re worried, but you’re being irrational!” 

“Hey-” 

“You need to open up your eyes and focus on the mission!” Arrow scolded. “I never thought I’d have to tell _you_ that!” 

“The captives are in danger and the supervillains aren’t doing anything.” 

“And we need to find them before they do!” 

“We will!” Bruce almost yelled. 

“Not like this!” 

“You’re right,” Bruce said, much calmer. “In-fighting won’t help.” 

“We-” 

“Oliver,” Bruce looked him in the eye. “This is my city. I called you here because I wanted your help. I _need_ it. I- I can’t lose someone again, and those kids are important to me.” 

“How important can they be?” Oliver yelled. 

“Mister Queen, please lower your voice.” Alfred walked down the steps. “Master Batman, I thought I told you to try not to leave a mess of things.” 

Bruce glanced at the papers. “Sorry, Alfred.” 

“What’s Alfred doing here?” Arrow asked, already knowing Alfred from previous encounters. 

“I came to check on things. Are they..?” 

Bruce shook his head. “We haven’t found them.” 

Alfred’s forehead creased with worry, but he said nothing else. 

“Wait...” Flash said, looking frantically between Bruce and Alfred. “Wait, thirteen people are gone, right?” 

Bruce nodded. 

“And, and... the other Gotham vigilantes are busy.” 

_Please don’t._

“So that’s... Nightwing-” he started counting on his fingers, and other people seemed to be catching on “-Red Hood, Red Robin, Robin, Catwoman, Orphan, Spoiler, Batwoman, Signal... Huntress..?” 

Bruce kept his face neutral. “Yes, they’re busy.” 

“Missing,” Flash said. “Autocorrect catch you in real life, right?” 

Bruce grunted. 

“And-and Richard Grayson grew up in the circus, so he’d be very acrobatic, like Nightwing. Jason Todd was from the streets, so he had street smarts, like Hood. Timothy- eh, I don’t know. Damian Wayne grew up in an unknown place with an unknown mother in an unknown way. Who knows? He could’ve already been good at fighting when he got here. Cassandra Cain is a woman of few words, like Orphan. Stephanie Brown started befriending the Waynes around the same time Spoiler showed up, and Spoiler was stopping Cluemaster specifically, or Arthur Brown. Katherine Kane grew up with military stuff. I’ve got nothing on the Kyles or the new Wayne, but I think that’s enough proof.” 

By now, everyone except Superman couldn’t hear what he was saying because he was talking too fast. He slowed for his next sentence. 

“You’re Bruce Wayne.” 

Bruce grunted as everyone else seemed surprised, and very, very sure of it. 

“I believe it is time for you to talk with your friends, Master Batman,” Alfred said. “I will leave you to it.” 

The butler exited the room as everyone stared more intently at Bruce. 

He sighed and flopped down the cowl. 

“Now does everyone understand why I’m so d*mn worried about my own kids?”


	16. The Kidnapped (Part I - Batboys)

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> This chapter switches views a lot.
> 
> Thanks for reading!

— **Richard** — 

Richard looked up, squinting as he adjusted to the harsh light. 

“Where am I?” he asked. 

“Don’ worry.” The voice was deep and slightly gravelly, with something predatory sharpening the edges. “Here can’t be worse than Blüdhaven.” 

“Where am I?” Dick repeated, more forcefully. 

“You won’t have to worry ‘bout that again,” the person responded, a mimic of his previous response. “Right now, it’s just you and me, lad.” 

“What do you want from me?” 

“I just want to sit and have a nice cup of tea, but that migh’ just change if you decide to tick me off. You’re at my mercy right now, and don’t you forget it.” 

“Why, exactly, did you kidnap me?” Richard asked, his voice exasperated. This felt like the five hundredth time. 

“Ha! Like I’d waste my time doing the borin’ stuff all by myself. No, _I_ didn’t kidnap you, but I will be dealing wi’ you, so don’t you try anything... if you want to keep your fingers.” 

The person was right about trying anything not being a good idea. While the walls were stone and brick, the door was metal, and Richard knew breaking through the lock there would be difficult. What’s more, his hands and feet were strapped down with tight metal, and he was chained to the chair. He didn’t seem to have _anything_ of use on him, and the captor didn’t have anything either, save for a small device, the point of which being unclear. 

“See, one of your siblin’s decided to escape. They’d better not be needin’ those hands for anything.” 

Richard started struggling. “You sick fu-” 

“Ah ah ah,” the person said, wagging his finger. “That’s not how you behave.” 

Richard forced himself still and glared at the person. 

A scream of pain pierced through the wall, testing Richard’s self-control a litter further. 

_Timothy_

“What did you do to him?” 

“Oh, him? He’s probably getting his fingers crushed or something similar.” Why do you care?” 

“He’s my little brother! Of course I-” 

“But does he know?” 

“What?” 

“Does he even know you care about him?” 

“I-” 

“I was there when his life was threatened,” the man said. “‘My life doesn’t matter. No one will care if I die’.” 

Richard fell silent. 

“Does he even know you view him as a brother?” 

Richard remained silent. Really, he couldn’t say what Tim thought. He didn’t know how Tim viewed the world. 

Another scream pierced through the wall. 

Richard flinched. 

“Now,” the man in front of him said. “You’re going to cooperate, or this is goin’ to end badly.” 

— **Jason** — 

“Where the f*ck am I?” 

“Unspecified.” 

“Who the f*ck are you?” 

“Unspecified.” 

“What the f*ck did you do to the others?” 

“They’re safe,” the woman said, “for now.” 

She looked up at him from where she was sharpening her blade. 

“What do you want?” 

“Your assistance.” 

“With what?” 

“Changing the world, obviously.” The woman pushed a lock of dust-covered black hair our of her face. “Hair. Always a nuisance.” 

“...What?” 

“I’m chatting. About hair. It’s always a nuisance, no matter what you do to it. I cut it short, but it doesn’t seem to be helping.” 

“Maybe you should shave your head.” 

“No,” she said. “The shortest I’ll make it is a little shorter than yours. Maybe like and inch shorter..?” 

“It’s still a liability.” 

“Everything is a liability if you fight the right person.” 

“...Okay..?” 

“Anyway...” 

“What do you need my help for?” 

“We’re going to assassinate the president.” 

“Are you sure about that..? I don’t-” 

“I’m kidding.” 

“Oh.” 

A tense silence fell between them, interrupted only by the sharpening of the blade. The woman seemed contented to stare at it, admiring the way it shined. Jason didn’t really blame her. It looked cool, with a smooth, polished, double-edged blade, half black and half brightly colored. The handle was leather, and the guard and pommel looked to be bronze. 

“What’s with your knife?” 

“It’s the only weapon my mother ever had.” 

“What happened to your mother?” 

“I happened.” The woman stared longingly at the knife, as if it would bring back her mother. “She was always a fighter, I heard. Strong-willed. Never gave up. She was a vigilante like you.” 

“Huh.” 

“She died giving birth to me.” 

“I’m sorry to hear that.” 

He really was sorry. He knew from firsthand experience what it was like lose a parent, and he couldn’t help the twinge of sympathy for his captor. 

“It’s fine. Parents are annoying anyway.” 

“Tell me about it,” Jason said, exasperated. His Mom had been fine. Current parent, Bruce? Nope. 

“It’s probably why I killed Dad.” 

_Okay, maybe I shouldn’t be feeling sympathetic._

“I was on the streets when they found me,” the woman said. 

She stood, and in that moment, Jason realized she wasn’t a woman, but merely a girl. Maybe even younger than Damian. 

“...How old are you..?” 

“Twelve.” 

_Younger than Damian. Okay._

“Who found you?” 

“Them,” she made a vague gesture to the wall. “Now, I’ve already told you enough, so we’re just going to fill you in a little.” 

— **Timothy** — 

It hurt. A lot. 

“Now, you understand what happens when you don’t listen, don’t you?” 

Tim glared. 

He probably wasn’t going to be able to use his fingers—maybe not even his hands—for a while 

He certainly wasn’t able to use them to get out of here. 

_Unless I’m here long enough to heal._

The thought stirred a sickening feeling in his stomach. How long would he stay before anyone could find him? How long until he found a way to escape. 

_Does anyone even care?_

He let his shoulders droop, turning his gaze to the floor. 

“Ah, so you _do_ understand.” 

Tim sighed. “What do you want?” 

“Your help.” 

“With what?” 

“Assassinating the president,” the man said with a snicker. 

“What? No!” 

“Sorry, inside joke.” 

“You have accomplices,” Tim guessed. “Will I be working with them?” 

_Calm down. Get information. Maybe you can play along and get out while they’re not paying enough attention._

“Maybe.” 

“Who am I working with? What do you need me for?” 

“Here,” the person said, sitting back in his chair. “Look, I know you’re upset, and I _know_ you can’t use your hands, but we _need_ your intellect.” 

“For what?” 

“We’re going to kill the Batman.” 

_No, no, no, no, no-_

_“What?”_ Tim shrieked. 

“We’re going to-” 

“I’m not helping.” 

“Really? It’ll be a test. A test to see who’s smarter, more skilled. Who’s... better.” 

“I don’t need glory. Forget it.” 

“You can forget your family then.” 

“What?” This time, Tim’s voice was quiet, uncertain. Still, rage boiled beneath his skin. How _dare_ these people kidnap him and try to force him to kill Bruce? 

Deep down, though, he couldn’t bring himself to really care. To try. To feel. Apathy had always been a defense mechanism, the easiest way to focus. He didn’t need emotions getting in his way. 

“Your family. We have them.” 

_No._

“Dick Grayson, Jason Todd, Cassandra Cain, Damian Wayne, Destiny Evans.” 

Tim pressed his lips together, stopping himself from saying anything stupid. He needed to be as calm on the outside as he was on the inside, in his core. 

_Breathe. Just Breathe. Think. What do you need to do? What can you do?_

“So, you’re either going to cooperate, or you’re going to lose everyone. What irony, you becoming the sole heir to the Wayne fortune _as well as_ the Drake fortune, all because your family died.” 

_They’ve neglected to mention Kori and Mar’i._

“I’m _sure_ the press wouldn’t have any crazy conspiracy theories about you causing their deaths. I’m sure you totally and completely wouldn’t be the cause. Your reputation wouldn’t become questionable. Most of all, you wouldn’t grieve for them.” 

Tim glared. 

“And Bruce? Bruce would be dead soon enough, along with that butler of yours.” 

“Don’t you _dare_ touch _anyone_ I care about.” 

“Then help.” 

Tim sighed. 

“We’re able to kill him without you, though more people you know will die.” 

Tim paused, then nodded in understanding. He needed to clear his head. Bruce would save them. 

Batman would come. 

He always came. 

— **Damian** — 

“Tt. What do you want?” 

“Is this the point where I tell you we’re assassinating the president? ‘Cause the others have probably told that joke.” 

“Others?” 

“Yeah. The one who’s messing with Grayson’s head, the one who had a surprisingly nice conversation with Todd, and the one who broke Drake’s fingers. Congrats, by the way. You woke up in age order. Well, _after_ Drake passed out from shock.” 

“What do you want?” Damian growled. 

The woman laughed. “I want nothing but his death.” 

“Whose?” 

“Batman’s.” 

Damian glared. 

“Wow! I didn’t know your face could look _more_ angry. You always seemed ready to kill someone,” she paused. “Maybe you always are.” 

“I’m ready to kill you.” 

“Well, you’re going to have to listen _really_ closely if you want to get a chance to start tracking me down after this is over.” 

“Tt. What nonsense do you wish to say?” 

“Well, I’m not going to tell you the whole plan, just what you’re doing.” 

“Spit it out before I decide you’re a _complete_ waste of my time.” 

“Watch it! I can make you lose all the time you have left on this God-forsaken planet. Now...”

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Thanks for 25+ Kudos! (26 total)


	17. The Search (Part I)

— **Roy** — 

“God f*cking d*mn it,” Roy muttered. “Jason, pick up the g*dd*mn phone.” 

_”Hey. You know who I am. I’m probably busy right now, so f*ck off or-“_

_Jason!_

He muttered more expletives as if they’d made Jason answer. 

He called again. 

_Ring... ring... ring... ring..._

Roy was about to give up when someone answered. 

“You sure took your d*mn time. I-“ 

“ _Roy?_ ” 

It wasn’t Jason. It was... 

_Oh, heck no._

“What the hell are you doing with that phone?” 

“I just found it,” Oliver explained. “Jason’s missing, so I’m-” 

_Click!_

It was only minutes before Roy arrived at the Bat-cave, panting. 

“What do we know?” he asked. 

“Arrow just found Jason’s and Tim’s stuff,” Oracle answered. “Here are all the photos I received from an anonymous person I still haven’t been able to find.” 

“It’s not just them,” Roy said. “I can’t find Kori or Mar’i anywhere.” 

“Sh*t.” 

— **Clark** — 

Clark halted immediately when he got the call. 

“Yes?” 

“Jon is missing,” Lois answered. 

“What?” 

“The school called. I checked Smallville. Nothing.” 

“I’ll tell Batman,” Clark replied. “We’re looking for people in Gotham right now. I can get the others to keep an eye out.” 

“Okay. I’ll see what I can do here. Love you. Bye.” 

“Love you too.” 

Lois hanged up, letting Clark get to the task of telling the others. 

He flicked on the communicators. 

“This is Superman. It’s been reported that Superboy is missing.” 

“ _Which one?_ ” Green Lantern asked. 

“The second. I’m going to Metropolis to look for him.” 

“ _I was just about to tell everyone,_ ” Oracle said. “ _Richard Grayson’s wife and kid are also missing._ ” 

“ _I think I found someone’s things,_ ” Flash said. 

“ _Where are you?_ ” 

“ _I’ll take the stuff back. It’s a backpack. Hang on..._ ” there was a short, almost unnoticeable pause. “ _The textbooks say Damian Wayne._ ” 

“ _Okay. Bring it here._ ” 

Clark searched wherever he could, his x-ray vision active as he flew around the city, interrupted every few moments by people in need of help. 

His spirits dropped when he realized Jon wasn’t there. 

Where was he? 

— **Alex** — 

“Alex! Alex!” Sky exclaimed. 

“Yeah?” she replied, struggling to cook breakfast. 

“There’s a strange man outside!” 

“Okay. Lee!” 

Lee rushed over to them. “Yeah?” 

“Make sure breakfast doesn’t burn.” 

“Okay.” 

Alex rushed over and opened the door, stopping when she saw the man. 

“...Aren’t you a Starling City vigilante?” 

“I’m here looking for the whereabouts of the Waynes and the escaped psychiatric patients from Arkham.” 

_There’s something off..._

“They’re not here,” Alex said defensively. Why would anyone think the Shelter was housing villains? 

“I’ll see that for myself.” 

“Go right ahead,” she said, faking being welcoming. 

The Green Arrow walked in, shoving past her. He seemed way too energized for someone who must’ve spent the night trying to deal with the Arkham breakout. 

She pulled out her phone. 

_It’s a stretch, but..._

“ _Hello,_ ” the person greeted. “ _You’ve reached Wayne Enterprises. How can I help you?_ ” 

“May I speak with Lucius Fox?” 

“ _I’ll see if he’s available._ ” 

“Thank you.” 

There was a click sound, almost as if the person had hung up on her. She was about to check to make sure the call was still going when a voice sounded in her ear. 

“ _Hello, this is Lucius Fox speaking. How can I help you?_ ” 

“May I speak with the CEO, please?” 

“ _Bruce Wayne and Timothy Drake-Wayne are absent. May I attempt to assist you?_ ” 

Alex snorted. “Are you Batman?” 

It was a gamble. She was certain he knew, but she wasn’t completely sure. 

“ _No. Why would you call Wayne Enterprises for Batman?_ ” 

“Bruce Wayne openly backs him financially. I figured it would have some perks, like knowing how to contact him.” 

“ _I’ll tell Bruce you want Batman, then._ ” 

“Thank you.” 

— **Barbara** — 

“Lucius is calling.” 

“ _Tell him I’m busy,_ ” Bruce instructed. 

“Okay,” Barbara replied as she answered the phone. “Hello. This is Barbara speaking.” 

“ _Someone called for Batman._ ” 

“Really? Bruce is busy.” 

“ _Yes. She called Wayne Enterprises,_ ” Lucius said. “ _She says that Green Arrow’s in her house. It’s a place called the Shelter in the Bowery._ ” 

“What about it? Is he invading random people’s houses?” 

“ _She says something’s off about him._ ” 

“Okay,” Barbara said. “Thanks. I’ll talk to Arrow.” 

“ _Thank you._ ” 

Barbara hanged up, flicking on the comms as she did. “Arrow?” 

“ _Yes?_ ” 

“What’s your position?” 

“ _I’m in the Bowery. Why? Do you need me somewhere else?_ ” 

Barbara narrowed her eyes, although Oliver wasn’t with her. He _did_ seem weird. Maybe a little too helpful? Less angry and more robotic? 

She switched to the private channel she had with Bruce. 

“Batman?” 

“ _Yes?_ ” 

“The call was because of someone in the Bowery. She said Arrow passed through and that he didn’t seem normal.” 

Bruce grunted. “ _He probably just seemed strange because he’s from Star City._ ” 

“I called him, and he seemed a little weird.” 

Bruce grunted. 

“Mad Hatter’s loose.” 

Another grunt. “ _I’ll check on him._ ” 

— **Oliver** — 

Oliver groaned, rubbing his head. “What happened?” 

“Mad Hatter.” 

“Oh. Did I-” 

“No.” 

“I didn’t even-” 

Batman grunted. 

“Did we find him?” 

Grunt. “We don’t know what he’s planning.” 

“Great.” 

“ _I think everyone should get rest,_ ” Oracle’s voice sounded over the comms. “ _You’re no use to anyone if you drop dead from exhaustion._ ” 

“I-” 

“ _Nope!_ ” Oracle interrupted Batman. “ _You haven’t slept since the Riddler got away._ ” 

“Th-” 

“ _I’ll redirect you to Agent A._ ” 

“Oracle-” 

“ _Master Batman,_ ” Alfred’s voice sounded. “ _I do believe it is far past your bedtime._ ” 

For Oliver, the mortified look on Batman’s face made staying up all night worth it. 

“Al-” 

“ _Code names,_ ” Oracle’s voice chimed. 

“ _Miss Oracle is right, Master Batman._ ” 

His shoulders slumped. “I’ll be back in a quarter.” 

“ _Of an hour,_ ” Oracle stated, “ _not a day._ ” 

Batman grunted... again. 

“ _Yes?_ ” Oracle prompted. 

“Yes.” 

“ _Good._ ” 

Batman glared at Oliver. Had he been making an amused face or something..? 

“Wh-” 

Batman was already gone.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Hey! I’m back after a month-long hiatus for anyone who’s been reading this as it’s being posted (honestly, I’m not sure anyone’s reading it). I have chapters ready for the next few weeks, but they’ll be short for a while.
> 
> As an explanation for Oliver, in case it was unclear: Mad Hatter.


	18. The Kidnapped (Part II - Girls)

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Normally, it’s ladies first, but you save the best for last, right?

— **Selina** — 

“Why did you kidnap _me_?” Selina asked, stretching her fingers out as she talked. She stared at them for a moment, imagining how she would dig her claws into these people. If only she were as Catwoman. 

“We’re killing Batman.” 

“Well, _that_ was blunt.” 

“We need your assistance.” 

“Mhm,” Selina said. “And what makes you think I’ll help..?” 

“We have your ‘kittens’.” 

“Well,” she paused, taking a moment to consider her options. “It seems I don’t have a choice.” 

“You don’t.” 

“Hm...” 

“If you try anything, they’re dead.” 

“I got the gist. What do you want me to do?” 

“Y’see, I want you to...” 

— **Chloe** — 

The girl paused. “What?” 

“It’s pretty.” 

“...Okay.” 

“What’s your name?” 

“You may call me Exis,” the girl said. 

“Sounds like exists.” 

“EK-sis.” 

“Eksis.” 

“Do you want to see your brother again?” 

Chloe stared. “Is that the start of a threat or just a question?” 

“It’s a question.” 

“I’d love to see him again.” 

“I’ll take you to him.” 

“Really?” 

“Yeah, but you have to promise not to try to run away, no matter what.” 

“Okay.” 

“Pinky promise?” Exis said, holding up her smallest finger. 

“Pinky promise.” 

She smiled and slipped her hand into Chloe’s. 

“Did you know that if you broke a pinky promise,” Chloe said, “people would cut your finger off?” 

“Yeah, and handshakes were invented to make sure the person whose hand you shook wasn’t holding any weapons.” 

“Hands _are_ weapons.” 

Exis nodded. “And not all weapons can even be seen.” 

“Like superpowers.” 

“Yeah.” 

There was a moment of silence. Chloe stared at Exis, studying her. 

“You have pretty eyes, too,” she said. 

“Thanks.” 

Exis’ eyes were iridescent, and her hair had all the colors of the rainbow in vibrant waves down to her hips. 

“I want hair like yours,” Chloe said. 

Exis smiled softly. “You can dye it.” 

“Do you dye yours?” 

“No.” 

“Really?” 

“Yes. Oh, here we are.” 

Chloe turned. “Clyde!” 

“Chloe!” he said, enveloping her in a hug. “You’re okay!” 

“Yep! Exis was very nice.” 

The door shut, leaving them alone in the room. 

— **Cassandra** — 

Cassandra glared at her captor, unsure he could even see her. She could barely see him through the blindfold with which her eyes were covered. She couldn’t speak, not that she was one for words. 

She couldn’t _talk._

Couldn’t move at all. 

They had taken all her tools. Everything that could possibly help her escape. 

She moved her fingers slightly. 

At least they didn’t cut off any limbs. 

“You’re better than Batman at hand-to-hand combat, right?” 

She glared more harshly. 

“I need you to do me a favor...”


	19. The Kidnapped (Part III - The Mission)

— **Richard** — 

“I’m sorry.” 

“What?” 

The reaction came too late. 

He was already unconscious. 

Richard sighed, staring in dismay at the form on the ground. He was going to get into _so_ much trouble for taking down a Leaguer. Bruce was going to be- 

Bruce was going to be dead. 

Richard took one last look at the sight of Green Lantern before leaving. 

_Maybe Bruce would’ve been okay with it. He_ is _Green Lantern._

— **Jason** — 

_Eh, Bruce wouldn’t judge me for it even if he had the time._

“‘Sup,” Jason said. “It’s me.” 

There was no time for the Leaguer to react before he had been hit over the head with Jason’s gun. 

_Now, how to get out of here..._

He gave Oliver an extra kick. 

“That’s for Arsenal.” 

— **Timothy** — 

“Watching the others leave, I’ve noticed they only sent someone to accompany _me_ ,” Tim said. “Do they think I’m incompetent? I can take down Superman, easy.” 

The girl remained silent. 

“I really don’t think they need to be endangering you. How old are you, seven? I get that people can be dangerous, even if they’re young, but _still._ ” 

She glared at him, but remained silent. 

“I get it, you don’t want to talk,” Tim said, “but I do. Why are you with these people?” 

Silence. 

“How long have you been with them?” 

She paused. “Six hundred and twenty-six days have passed since I awakened with them.” 

“Awakened? Did they kidnap you or something?” 

Silence, again. 

“You’re not much of a talker, are you?” 

“Superman should be here soon. Stick to the plan.” 

“Oh, you’re here because they want to make sure I stick to the plan! How unexpected. Tell them to f*ck off.” 

“Understood.” 

He looked at her one last time. For a moment, he thought he saw a glimmer of hope in those golden-yellow eyes, but she blinked and it disappeared. 

Tim walked out onto the sidewalk. He stopped in the middle of it. How would he get Superman’s attention, especially with Jon missing? 

“...Hey Superman!” Tim yelled. “I need your help!” 

Superman was there in an instant. Tim could already feel the guilt. He tightened his hand around the lead box. 

Superman opened his mouth to speak. 

“It’s urgent,” Tim said. 

Superman nodded and followed him, back into the alleyway. Tim wondered where the girl had gone. 

The guilt got worse just as he had popped the box open, and it sure as hell hit hard once he had stabbed Superman with the glowing green rock. 

Superman reeled back, attempting to yank out the kryptonite. 

_Come on, Clark. You can win._ Please. 

“Why-” 

“I’m sorry,” Tim blurted. 

_Just go along with it!_

Superman seemed to understand. He wasn’t as great of an actor as Bruce would be, but he managed. The girl seemed convinced. 

-Later- 

“How did my hands get healed?” Tim wondered aloud. 

“Healing potions,” the girl answered. 

“Oh. So why, again, did they send you with me?” 

“To ensure Superman made it back.” 

“How did that go?” 

“I am empathetic.” 

“...What?” 

“Clark has been thrown in a cell. I will neglect to tell them what you tried to do.” 

“Oh.” 

Maybe the little girl could read minds. Maybe she had some way of knowing what he wanted or what he planned. Maybe she was observant enough to know it was all an act. 

“You think too much.” 

_So she_ can _read minds._

“I think I think the perfect amount,” he said. 

“No, you do not.” 

Tim glared. 

— **Damian** — 

Well... taking out the League was something he’d wanted to do since leaving. 

~~He wished he could do it with his family.~~

He watched through the window as the assassins walked around, organizing for something he guessed was finding a temporary settlement. 

The woman from before was with him, staring at the assassins, unmoving. She didn’t seem like she even noticed he was there with her. 

“What is the point of this?” he asked impatiently. 

“Silence. You do not know a thing.” 

Damian glared, although the statement might as well have been true. If Drake were there- 

_No._

What would Drake even do? The woman seemed entranced by the assassins, but when Damian tried to move, she glared at him. 

_That’s a no, then._

Maybe he could leave when they were fighting... 

_No. The League would find me and bring me to Grandfather._

The woman hissed, snapping Damian back to reality. She made a gesture—the symbol on which they had agreed—more violently than necessary. 

Despite not caring about her opinion, Damian felt his face flush. Whether helping the enemy or not, he has still made a mistake, and mistakes were unacceptable. He had to be perfect. He had only been made because Talia and Ra’s needed a perfect heir. To mess up would be to become flawed. 

Instead of apologizing or trying to amend the mistake, Damian glared at the woman. 

She glared right back and dropped down from their hiding place. With a flick of her wrist, knives hit several assassins in the backs of their necks. They hit the floor as she did. 

Damian followed her. He refused to use lethal violence, instead opting for the training Bruce had given him. He scowled as the floor still became covered in bodies and blood. 

Bruce wouldn’t have approved. 

The woman worked much quicker than he did, picking off the assassins three at a time without pause. By the end of it, fifty bodies littered the floor, over half of them dead. 

“Is that all?” the woman scanned the area. “I thought there’d be more.” 

“More will be on the way soon. Ra’s will not be easy to defeat. He has an entire army of fully trained assassins, more equipped for battle than these. This was merely a small collection of them.” 

“Yeah, yeah. I get it. He sounds _so_ powerful. You clearly haven’t seen what our group can do.” 

“Tt,” Damian said. “If you are so confident that your group could defeat Ra’s, why do you need our help to kill Batman?” 

“You, young sir, are his second youngest child-” 

“I am his only _actual_ child.” 

“Actually, you’re the illegitimate child. A bastard, one would say. Talia’s son. Bruce probably cares about you the least.” 

“That’s not-!” 

“He never wanted you, Damian. He didn’t choose to have you. The others? He chose them. He saw them and decided he wanted to take them in as his own. He loves _them_ , Damian, not you.” 

“Father-” 

“Your father didn’t want you. He doesn’t need you. Why do you think we has to kidnap all of his kids? One wouldn’t be enough. He could save one in a heartbeat. Two wouldn’t work, either. You have to kidnap enough that they’re unable to be saved, and if he has you, Damian, he’ll use you to save the others, just like he always uses you.” 

“Father cares about me. He doesn’t hate me, and he isn’t using me.” 

“Prove it.” 

“Tt.” 

“Stockholm Syndrome is a terrible thing.” 

“I do _not_ have-” 

“Sh!” 

He quieted. 

“People are coming.” 

Before he could respond, she had grabbed him by the back of his shirt and yanked him up to their original hiding place.


	20. The Search (Part III)

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Kinda short...

— **Barry** — 

“I think I found something,” Barry said. 

“ _What?_ ” Oracle asked. 

“League assassins, looks like. Half dead.” 

“ _They’re all half dead or-_ ” 

“Half of them are dead. Thirty-three out of fifty-one.” 

“ _Any clue the cause?_ ” 

“No, I-” 

He cut of to knock out an assassin that had woken up while he was talking. 

“Let’s see...” he zipped around the area. “Severed brainstems. Slit Carotid Arteries and Jugular Veins. Others have only been knocked unconscious. Probably hit in pressure points or over the head. There were two attackers. One about 5’2”, the other 5’6”, uh, probably. One was wearing heels.” 

“ _Any blood from them?_ ” 

“Doesn’t seem like it. Even if there were, it would be unable to be identified. All the blood is covering the floor. There isn’t any on the—I’m trying to talk here!—walls.” 

The assassin flopped back to the ground without even being hit. It sighed. 

“Um... probably new recruits.” 

“ _Can you take one back here? Wait-_ ” 

He stared at Oracle. “Too soon?” 

“Yes,” agitation filled her voice. 

He was back at the scene before she even finished her response. 

“ _I’ll send B over to investigate. The League is dangerous. Do not engage enemies on your own. Whoever did this is skilled._ ” 

“Got it.” 

“ _Are you sure there were only two assailants?_ ” 

“Unless the others were wearing the same kind of shoes the assassins were, then yeah, pretty sure.” 

“ _Okay._ ” 

Barry looked at the assassins and sighed. 

— **Harley** — 

“I think I know why we lost contact with Green Lantern,” Ivy remarked. 

“Poor lil’ thing,” Harley said, prodding him. “Sleepin’ like a baby. Betcha he won’t wake up any time soon.” 

“ _Progress?_ ” 

“Well, Mistah J’s in jail. Doctor Crane an’ Mister Dent are with ‘im.” 

“ _I_ know _that. Is there any new news?_ ” 

“The news is always new. That’s why they call it the news!” 

“ _Harley._ ” 

“Nope. No newer new news, but you knew there was no newer new news for you, didn’t you know?” 

“ _Just- Okay. How’s Lantern?_ ” 

“Dead, sweetheart. Dead.” 

“ _What?_ ” 

Harley laughed. “‘M kiddin’. He’s just sleepin’. Slackin’ off while the rest of us work.” 

“ _Okay._ ” 

“You sound tired, O.” 

“ _I_ am _tired._ ” 

“Of me?” 

“ _...Yes._ ” 

Harley laughed. 

“ _Just keep looking._ ” 

“You got it!” Harley flicked off the comms. “Let’s go!” 

Ivy smiled at her. They went on their way, traveling across the rooftops like the Bats usually did. 

— **Diana** — 

“I found Green Arrow. He is unconscious.” 

“ _Okay. Pick up Green Lantern on your way back, please. He’s about three miles from your current location. You can take a shortcut on the roofs._ ” 

“I will.” 

“ _Thank you._ ” 

Diana picked up Green Arrow under one arm. After about fifteen minutes, she found Green Lantern and repeated the action. 

She arrived at the cave to see Oracle tying up an assassin from the League. 

“Is the League of Assassins responsible for the kidnappings?” 

“No,” Oracle answered. “I don’t know what part they play in this.” 

“Are there more of their group in Gotham?” 

“I don’t know. Probably. There was an entire group of them. I don’t know what Ra’z is planning, but it certainly can’t be anything good.” 

“Shall we inform the others?” 

Oracle sighed. “I will.” 

Diana put Green Lantern and Green Arrow on two of the beds in the Batcave. She half-smiled half-frowned at the rest of the beds. They represented each member of the Batfamily, but they also represented how they could all get injured. 

When she had first seen the cave, she hadn’t even known Bruce’s name. So much had changed since then. Then, there has only been one bed. There hadn’t been so many papers on the desk. There hadn’t been so many antidotes to poisons, medical kits, and specialized weapons specific to each criminal. There also hadn’t been a mechanical dinosaur and a giant penny. 

For a while, Batman had insisted the growing number of computers was for him and that the beds were in case League members got hurt, but when there were enough reports of kids running around kicking criminal butt in brightly colored, red, or black costumes, he no longer denied the he had accomplices. He still avoided the subject, despite the League having met Robin, Batgirl, Nightwing, Spoiler, and Red Robin. 

Diana wondered if that would change now that he had revealed his identity. 

A red light blinded her from the old memories. There was an alert on the screen. 

“Bruce?” Oracle said, not bothering to switch to a private channel. 

“Yes, Oracle?” The question sounded more like a statement. 

“It’s Talia.”


	21. Talia al Ghul

She stood on the rooftop, her cloak protecting her from the heavy rain. It hadn’t been rainy when she had arrived in Gotham, but good weather could only last so long. In Gotham, that meant fifteen minutes. 

Batman found her in about ten minutes after her arrival. His foot didn’t even slip on the puddle at the edge of the rooftop, unlike the assassin earlier. She would have resolved to cut off his feet if not for the news he brought. Besides, she was out of the League. She needed to get out of some of her... worse habits. 

“Talia,” Bruce greeted. “I thought you said you changed.” 

“And I think you’re missing something of ours.” 

“What do you want?” 

Talia wondered when Bruce had started talking with less hate towards her. He had always treated her like just another criminal, but this past year, he had only seemed tired. Really tired. 

“Stop wasting time looking for Damian,” she said. “My assassins found him at a rendezvous point. He’s staying with me for a few days, and I’ll have my assassins searching for the rest of your kids.” 

Bruce grunted. 

Talia really only cared whether or not they found Jason, and Bruce knew that judging by his tone. 

“You well obviously need help with it. The Justices League can’t stay forever. I think Damian has something to say.” 

“Father,” Damian said, taking Talia’s words as his cue. “They are planning on eliminating you.” 

Bruce grunted again, but his expression softened at the sight of his alive and healthy kid. 

“Where are your siblings?” 

“I am unaware. They were not where I was being kept.” 

Bruce nodded. 

“I am going with Mother. We will find the others together.” 

Bruce walked towards Damian—Talia narrowed her eyes at how Damian flinched—but all Bruce did was hug him. Nothing violent or threatening. Nothing to explain the flinch. 

Talia looked away. Damian’s response to the hug was because of her own treatment of him, not Bruce’s... she hoped. She wouldn’t know what to do to Bruce if he was abusive. 

...Probably remove his hands. 

“Mother.” 

Talia looked back at Damian. “Yes?” 

“Are we going?” 

She nodded and grabbed his hand. “We’ll find your siblings together.” 

“I’d rather it be we only found Cain. The others are all imbeciles.” 

“The others may know where she is.” 

“Tt.” Damian crossed his arms, hiding his worry behind aloofness. 

Talia sighed. “Bruce?” 

Bruce grunted. 

“Someone else was there with him,” she said. 

“What?” 

“Short brown hair,” Damian said. “Brown eyes. Around Jason’s skin tone and five foot seven. Dark grayscale outfit. Adept at martial arts. Preferred weapon is throwing knives. I am unsure how skilled she is in other areas, but she defeated half those assassins... maybe more. They forced me to help. Their mission is to kill Batman.” 

Bruce seemed borderline taken aback and borderline unsurprised. “I’ll check the database for someone who fits that description. The others may have encountered her before.” 

Damian nodded 

“Her motive?” 

“I believe she is working with an organization—the one that abducted the others—to take down Batman because she is receiving orders from another, higher-ranking member.” 

Bruce nodded ever-so-slightly, his expression thoughtful. 

“I’ll tell the others,” he decided finally, following it with more hesitation. “Have fun with your mother.” 

Damian nodded, and Bruce vanished. 

“Beloved,” Talia said. 

“Yes, Mother?” 

“We should start searching.” 

He nodded. 

— 

“Oh. Hey, Tals.” 

“Todd,” Damian said before Talia could answer. 

“And... Damian... my favorite.” 

“Tt.” 

“Is anyone else in this building?” Talia asked. 

“As far as I know, only the girl who was supposed to be watching me left because she heard an ice cream truck that no doubt belongs to Joker.” 

“And you haven’t escaped on your own?” Damian’s voice filled with disapproval. 

“I can’t even feel my fingers, brat.” 

“Be glad you still have them.” 

“Yep!” a chipper voice sounded from the doorway. 

Talia grimaced, scolding herself for not noticing the girl. Damian leaped into action, and Jason spoke. 

“It’s her.” 

“I heard,” the girl said, twirling a knife, “they broke Red Robin’s fingers.” 

“They _what_?” Jason’s voice was dangerous. 

“Don’t know if they chopped ‘em off or just broke ‘em beyond repair. Either way, it must’ve been painful. It’s why you don’t tick off the boss.” 

Damian had her pinned against the wall, knife to her throat, but she didn’t seem threatened in the least. 

“Don’t fail them. They’ll drive you insane.” 

“You’re insane,” Jason said. 

“They didn’t make me this way. I was insane when I got here. Calla? Calla _was_ normal.” 

They had a name. Good. 

“Who’s Calla?” 

“Calla’s another Elite, just like everyone else you’re dealing with.” 

“Is that the name of the organization?” 

“No, we’re just a branch of it.” 

“How do we know we’re can trust anything you say?” 

The girl shrugged. “I’m not a certain someone else, so I actually _can_ lie.” 

“Get in the chair,” Jason said, gesturing to the chair Talia had freed him from only a moment prior. 

“Okay,” she sing-songed, following instructions. 

“Why are you being so cooperative?” 

“Well, if I listen to you, I’m being defiant towards them, and I don’t have to worry about them punishing me for disrespect, only failure.” 

“What is the difference?” Talia asked. “They are both faults.” 

“Oh,” the girl said. “You’re the Talia person they told us about.” 

“What?” Talia hid confusion behind anger. 

“Oh, you know. Debriefings. They warned us of potential threats. If you leave me alive, I’ll have to tell them you’re here. I think they thought the assassins were Ra’s’.” 

“They thought they could take on the entire League?” This time it was disbelief, but she couldn’t show that either. 

She scolded herself again. She only couldn’t show it because she was on mission, and she _chose_ not to show emotions. No weakness of hers needed to be known by the enemy. 

“As long as the ace is here, there’s no enemy we can’t defeat.” 

“Who is this ‘ace’?” 

“Oh, I shouldn’t talk about her.” 

“You’ve seemed perfectly fine betraying them up until now,” Jason said. “What’s different about her?” 

“The difference is that the boss cares about her.” 

“And not about you?” 

“Why should he? I’m not number one. I’m only ranked seventy.” 

“Who else are we dealing with?” 

She sighed. “My name is Adara. Human. My preferred weapon is my favorite knife. You’re also dealing with Alice, Amari, Ace, Blue, Flick, Janice, Jasper, Kazuki, and the number one.” 

“Anything we need to look out for?” 

“Alice can completely alter someone’s mind,” Adara said. “Amari has the power of persuasion. Like mind control, but she rarely uses it. She was with Damian, and might’ve used it already to make him doubt himself.” 

Damian frowned and crossed his arms, a clear sign of discomfort. 

“Ace is... scary. Complete mind control over multiple targets. Could’ve taken out all the assassins we knew about by making them kill themselves, but... eh. 

“Blue and Flick aren’t too dangerous. Janice can force you to make a decision. Jasper’s ability is ability deactivation. In other words, if the opponent is Superman, he can deactivate his abilities. All of them. Permanently.” 

“That’s dangerous for him, but we can handle that,” Jason said. 

“Yep, human vigilante squad,” she said. “And, uh... Kazuki? You want to face him about as much as you want to face Janice and the number one. Which is, to say, you don’t.” 

“Why?” 

“I...” she stared blankly. “I can’t quite... remember.” 

Jason raised an eyebrow. 

“Well,” Talia said. “It sounds like we don’t have a choice.” 

“Tim and Dick will be in the same building,” Adara said. “Mar'i and Kori share one. The Kyles are in one. Steph, Barbara, and Cass are in separate-” 

“Barbara?” Jason asked. 

“Oops! Spoke too soon. Eh, there’s nothing you can do.” 

He narrowed his eyes. “Adara?” 

“Yes?” Adara feigned innocence. 

“Where. is. Barbara?”

**Author's Note:**

> Thanks for reading! This work will be continued soon.
> 
> Updates on Mondays at around 10:00 p.m. Archive (UTC) time.
> 
> Warnings:
> 
> 1\. Mentions of Child Abuse/Neglect  
> 2\. Depictions of Violence  
> 3\. Heavy Topics, Like Trauma and Mental Illness
> 
> (May, at some point, deal with Substance Abuse, Graphic Depictions of Violence, Self-Harm, Death, Racist, and Anti-LBGT+ content.)
> 
> Please note that I am pro-LGBT+ and completely support the movement. I am against racism, and I am very feminist. I am all for equality and understanding each other, BUT there may be some content in this work against these things. It doesn’t change how I view these movements, but it may change whether or not you want to read this.


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